Samourai
by Baron Noir
Summary: Long due update...Alice and Lavian past and affections are revealed !
1. Chapter One : The Citadel

**Lessaria….**

"I'm still saying that I don't trust the King, and even less the Inquisition."

"I agree with you, Renard. But do we really have a choice?" replied Flora.

The small group was walking into the steer slopped streets of the city of Lessaria; their destination the huge Citadel that dominated the urban landscape. The formal and written oaths of safe passage that have been accorded to them... Would they be considered as mere scraps of papers? To ask that question was inviting a negative response. However, like Flora had said, other possibilities were somewhat unlikely... If they did not answer positively to the Inquisition's request for "an honest and frank encounter in Lessaria to shed light on certain points," the organization would have launch open hostilities; an event that would make things get really ugly (with the current King, a war against the Inquisition would be a war against the state...) Some in the ranks of the larger group in which Renard and his "followers" have operated recently were hoping that some shocking revelations would force the Church and the Inquisition to no negotiate with them. Renard was having serious doubts about the success of this method. If they explained the truth about certain things, they risked the rage of the dignitaries that were true believers. They also risked of angering those who knew the truth about Ajora, but who feared the said truth to be spread. Both factions would certainly agree to hanging, beheading, or burning all the Heretics. Ajora was maybe dead... but his Church was not. Renard could only hope that he would be able to convince the others to plan in advance for their testimonies to prevent differing stories that might hurt their case.

Corail, the youngest member of the group, grasped the dagger she was holding... For whatever help this weapon would be if the Knights of the Holy-Office, the best equipped unit of the Ost, the elite of the elite, received orders to attack them... Several units of this order were positioned on the road linking the Gates of Lessaria to the Citadel and the cathedral within. This was not a good sign... But it was far too late to turn back now.

"We should have gone to Oversea," continued Renard while he was revising mentally the complex street layout of Lessaria, in case a fast getaway would be needed. But there was not a point in the city that was safe for them in the long run. Moreover, because of the rampaging urban crime, a good number of narrow streets were blocked by barricades and guard posts during the night, in the vain hope of controlling a little criminality... Those chokepoints would further limit their possibilities in time of serious crisis.

"Where could we have gone? The Inquisition has a long reach… In Rovannia, their power is such that they would find us in a short time… Same thing for Damaskia..."

"Not in Damaskia, however. Here, we would have problems like daggers in the back, poisoned food in the inns, and outrageously low pay for our skills, but no Inquisitors..."

Flora would have continued, but this was no longer the time…They had finally arrived at the gates of the Citadel where they had to abandon their mounts and, logically, most of their equipment, notably pieces of armor that they did not require for the trip. Renard and Flora believed that the average person had seen enough armored Humans, who were just as likely to pillage as they were to protect them. When they were the enemy in the past half-century, almost like right, they were reacting with a barely masked hostility when they were saw troops. As a result, their trip had been paradoxically shorter than the ones of others members of their group, especially fort the latest part: entering in battle armor in Lessaria was unthinkable, but entering the Citadel this way was even less plausible. ..

But, however, they had the right to keep personal weapons. It would have been hard to make them accept the convocation if they had to come to the Citadel disarmed. It was more a false security than anything else: if it was truly a trap, weapons or not, they were almost certainly doomed. After identifying themselves (the absence of visible reaction from the guards could be interpreted in either positive or negative way), they followed a soldier that would lead them to their apartments after the preliminary meeting. While Flora, Renard and Corail were at the front, the two last members of the group, Sapphire and Singleton, were at the "rearguard". The drawbridge was not raised immediately after their passage: this fact did not cheer up Renard at all. It would have been too obvious.

Along the way to the Citadel, he had noticed thirteen potential control points, that could be sealed in a few seconds. This was not considering the living control points, better than any gate or barricade: the legions of soldiers that were within the walls of Lessaria….

The room for the meeting was one of the great halls, where several "Heretics" were all ready having a somewhat heated (but not overly violent) discussion with several bishops and cardinals and a couple of Inquisitors. Some were making veiled threats of awful revelations. Of all the things to do, this was indisputably the worst (since there was a quite obvious method to make sure than people knowing dangerous secrets did not share them) The preliminary discussion Renard had hoped for was really out of question...

"Eh, little brother," said Flora to Renard, "I think it's starting quite bad…"

"I will only say one thing, Flora: those famous fifteen small minutes you have more than me, you seem to think they're fifteen years... It's a kinda reckless exaggeration, no?"

"Oh, but you recognize my seniority by changing color each time I speak of it...

(For Flora, like her twin brother Renard, the subject was a possibility of light-hearted jokes, even if they were quite sarcastic, in situations that were not funny at all, like the preceding war, or the present convocation. It did not worked very well this time)

That said, conforming to their traditions, the Inquisition dignitaries were not very hostile (in appearance, at least), saying loudly that "their only intention was to find the truth.'' A healthy dose of scepticism was needed for this sentence. It was very probable than the Inquisitors were sincere in saying it. It was sure that their conception of the truth was not the one that the "Heretics" would have... Renard and Flora, in opposition to many nobles' offspring (they were as "un-noble" as could be) had received an excellent general education and were currently recalling that _Heresy _ came from _Hairesis, _a word meaning "choice" or "opinion" without any religious reference. This was somewhat relevant to their situation, as the core of the problem was that they have an opinion on Ajora not shared by the Church (small stuff! Only that he was the ultimate evil! There was certainly not much difference between that point of view and the one of the Church, where Ajora was seen as the Redemption of Humankind). Unfortunately, an opinion in dogmatic matter, especially when it was differing from the official one, was quite bad in those days. Asking if the Inquisition would accept true discussion on the actual nature of Ajora was a really rhetorical question: that would make themselves Heretics….

Renard had the stupid impression that all this would end in violence... Fortunately, the fact that no one in his group had played a first-rank role in the latest War spared them, for the time being, too much attention. All the attention was currently drawn by one woman, called by preachers the Heresiarch (this shameful title often backed by extremely aggressive terms, and basically what was open calls to murder her... Although the most heated-up fanatic would have strongly hesitated, eternal happiness in Afterlife or not, before attacking her, as this was almost certainly a death sentence...) but still admired by almost everyone for her courage, her skill, her intelligence. Her name was Agrias.

A bishop was currently talking to her, with a courtesy that was probably not all comedy. Her two faithful squires, Alice and Lavian, were at her side; ready to defend her if someone attacked the former Shrine Knight, although Agrias did not need protection. Renard recalled several fights (or all-out battles, for that matter) in which she fought against Human opponents (or not-so Human) with an extraordinary efficiency. Killing or capturing her would be a great feat. But with numbers, it was quite possible...

Soon after, the informal hearing was ended for today and the "supposed Heretics" were lead to their rooms that were unsurprisingly separated from one another. The whole idea of the deathtrap was looking more and more possible. And impossible to escape….

Renard had to insist not to let his small group be split up further. He was sure that separate rooms for each would _not _have been an honour. The demand was accepted. From sincere goodwill or by fear that too much insistence would raise new suspicion?

The room they received was vast, lavishly furnished, and (what a surprise) fitted with an extremely heavy door that could be very easily blocked... from both sides. Blocking it from their side would be like nailing themselves into their own coffins in case of trouble.

If this was a trap, what they need would be to get _out, _not defend their position. Sapphire, currently sat down on one of the beds, as conscious as the others of the risks of their current situation (as the lack of means of escaping said situation), proceeded to inventory her meager resources in Gil, something she did on a daily basis. Like all the other times, the result was extremely disappointing to her (with Sapphire, a barely visible modification of facial expression was a sign of great emotion. She was a bit cold, to the least). The whole mercenary trade was not usually very well paying, unless you had contacts, or you were on the high trade, the trade in which you were not selling your sword, but full armies. Renard and Flora had plenty to say on that subject.

Stuff like killing false gods and religions was certainly not bringing in a lot of money.

For various reasons, the four others members of the group did not really care about money, as long as they had enough to live. Unfortunately for Sapphire, the last months had been quite hard for the war chest, which was now at an all-time low. Her companions did know what to do. Renard and Flora knew her since the day of their group's formation. She certainly trusted the twins, yet she never said anything about her past. She was very "close" to her meager money, although it always disappeared quite fast for an unknown reason. Several attempts from Renard, Flora, Corail and Singleton for helping her with her finances were met by denial; the probable reason being that Sapphire preferred keeping the matter private, even if she had severe financial problems. It also seemed to affect her sensitively: her morale was always quite low, keeping her depressed.

That did not affect her remarkable capacities with a sword in various styles: the classical ones from the heavy Knighthood swords, the more recent ones using lighter swords like rapiers, and the stylish and deadly arts from the Far East. (Renard and Singleton, themselves, were somewhat skilled with firearms, while Flora was one of the finest Lessarian archers, Corail being exceptional in dagger-wielding but also with a bow. All of their gear was first grade, but "normal" compared to the numerous "magical" items found in the War of Ajora that was always going to the leaders-not that anyone in the small group really cared. The most magical thing about an enchanted weapon was how the price was high when you bought it and how low it would go when you tried to sell it.

Also, all the magic in the world did not seems to prevent weapons to break in a heated battle, which could be very embarrassing if the broken weapon was just a rusted axe.

Before going to sleep, they took an elementary security measure, organizing guard in shifts. but also keeping their weapons at arms length, although hidden to keep the servants that brought them their supper to sneak them away. For supper itself, Singleton assured that it was not "spiced" with any drug. His skills in this branch, but also the fact that he was more of a "gourmet" than the rest of the group, allowed the others to trust him fully on this matter. However, there was a far less hazardous method for knocking them off than opium or any other drug : the wine! For killing the reflexes and skills, this was a failsafe method. But the kitchens had not been very subtle by sending, for five persons, _ten _bottles of the better wines. Despite Singleton protests, who was saying that those wines were from both the finest years and vineyards of the whole Ivalice, and that the wax seals have never been tampered, not a single was touched, even less opened.

It was Flora who was on guard, when the alarm bells started around three o'clock in the morning, which was an extremely bad sign. Since what was ringed was the tocsin…the general alert ! And it was the bells from the great tower of the Cathedral that were ringing, not the ones from the smaller churches, that would have ring for small stuff such as fires, diseases outbreaks... The ones from the Cathedral were only rung for major perils like war declarations, treason (although at this point, Lessarians had started to be a bit sceptic as the said traitors were before everything else the enemies of the faction currently in possession of the Citadel)…or the presence in the Citadel of Heretics.

There were several very colorful expletives from the part of Flora about the King.

"You want war with us , you (a lot of unspeakable terms….) You got it !"

After screaming this, Flora did not lose time and promptly woke up the others, which was not very hard, since no one was sleeping very deeply or well. Detailed explanations were not necessary, especially when Flora tried to open the door, and it did not budge.

"Corail, the door is locked. Try to pick the lock, as quietly as you can."

Corail, who was the "thief" of the group, was hardly seventeen years old, with a very frail stature due to malnutrition in her younger years, took out her various lock-picking tools and began to "work" on the lock. She realized quickly that this was leading nowhere.

"Flora! Renard! They've placed the bars on the other side of the door! It won't open!"

Sapphire did not hesitate. She picked up her sword and thrusted it into the door. If she could carve a small hole in the door, they could remove the bar. Unfortunately, the door was twenty centimeters thick oak, which made it quite sturdy. It would have taken hours to cut it with an ill-fitted tool such as a sword and to add to this, the door was also reinforced with iron. Learning that, Corail, the undisputed specialist of those questions, judged that they would be lucky if they managed to make a hole in less than a few days. She had the impression that they were not going to have more than a few minutes….

"Should I try to destroy the hinges? They are quite heavy. It will take some time... at least an hour. Or if we're desperate, I could try to make a crude mine using some gunpowder? However, there are two slight problems: the first one is that we risk to be killed by splinters, and the second being that it's certainly going to get the attention of our hosts."

"I think that," Sapphire said quietly, "they are already expecting us to do something, discretion or not. That said, it could work…Let's be honest, we are probably not the priority targets-they will go for our leaders first….Maybe the bell, battle noises, and screams will hide the explosion... Anyway, we need to do something fast."

At this moment, they began to hear armored soldiers moving into the corridors, which really reduced their options to almost nothing. Not really hoping that this could be an escape route (the most brain dead enemy would have thought about that!), Singleton moved toward the window, to look at the courtyard beyond. It was depressing.

"Two ballistae are deployed in the courtyard, backed by a full company of crossbowmen with pavise shields. If we show up by the window, we will get transformed in hedgehogs very fast. (A short pause….) Hey, do you think it's time to try something that…"

Three "NO!" came from Flora, Corail, and Renard. Sapphire simply nodded her approval to their protestations. They knew all too well what Singleton was about to say: something in the lines of a "not too natural method," meaning a form or other of Magic.

Singleton having an irritating habit of considered himself a potential future Archmage (which was not AT ALL the case). Fortunately, his skills in the wide "science" known as alchemy was more than compensation for that….Singleton wisely stuck to stuff that worked, such as purifying naphtha for flaming arrows (that could be used without immolating yourself…) making plant extracts, and the like. Not trying to find the Philosophical stone. That said, he had at least acquired some theoretic knowledge about the various forms of Magic and could provide the others with a good idea of what an enemy mage or priest was about to unleash of them. It was really useful in battles.

Several war cries were heard from the courtyard. It was the others "heretics": Renard recognized several of the voices. The fighting seemed to be quite intense. It was going to be very, very, very costly battle for the attackers... However, there was not the slightest bit of doubt about the upcoming. The peacetime garrison of the Citadel was between 2000-2500 soldiers, including some bad soldiers, but also a few elite units. This force was already reinforced by the units that the King brought with him…And those numbers could still increase, thanks to the various barracks within the walls of Lessaria. In consequence, staying in the Citadel was nothing less than a death sentence.

Renard tried to remember the general layout of the citadel. Their room was in a maze of relatively small rooms, made out of huge apartments cut down by walls of light masonry (considerably lighter, anyway, than the almost meter tight outer walls). Unfortunately, their room was in an angle, meaning that two walls out of four were in the heavy masonry. The third one was the hallway wall. But the fourth one was separating them from another similar room that was empty! The problem was that the door led to the same hallway that would be still patrolled by guards until the Inquisition decided to assault…

There was a hope, however. Ten rooms down in the hallway, there was a guard post. It was presumably fitted with a crude, but efficient, security system of the Lessarian Citadel. Because of the staggering number of Kings, Queens, bishops, dignitaries that have fallen due to various plots and conspiracies (Nobles from the highest rank, having most of the time nothing to do, seemed often to do more plotting than breathing. This could be from relatively entertaining things, such as the dreaded feuds about ranks and "etiquette" to plots of the magnitude of the false Zodiac Legend). Most hallways of the Citadel could be blocked by very heavy portcullis, in the hope of blocking rebels long enough for reinforcement to come. Once the portcullis was released, it took hours, because of their sheer weight, to open them (while it took only a few seconds to release them). If they reached the guard post and managed to dispatch the guards without alerting the troops in the hallway; then, drop the portcullis, they could at least leave this level…Ir was probable that the troops were not as numerous in the rest of the castle…

Renard was pretty sure that there was no others "Heretics" in the sector and he really hoped that he was right, since releasing the portcullis would trap them too, with the troops. That short term plan would be a starting point for getting out of this trap. Long term plans would be laid out later, outside of the Citadel, and if possible out of Lessaria.

The person that would release the portcullis was obvious: Corail, whose small height and stature were very appropriate. She would only a small opening in each wall to squeeze through to reach the guard post. She took out her dagger, and started to dislodge bricks. The cement was relatively soft, and the work progressed quickly. During that time, Flora and Renard were busy screaming various insults at the intention of the Inquisitors, the guards, the King, and generally anyone within hearing range. This had a double advantage: it drowned the noise Corail was making, and it could persuade their enemies that they were merely standing in their room, preparing themselves as best as they could for the assault, basically about to make a death stand, no thinking about escape.

When the attack came, the door swung wide open at the first hit of the ram the attackers brought with them: the "Heretics" had not blocked the door on their side. They had however made a small barricade using the available furniture. The attention of the guards was drawn toward the barricade; not toward the nearly invisible wire that have been laid out just past the door. The first two attackers collapsed when they charged over it. With the total darkness of the room, (for covering the hole made in the wall) this leads to great confusion among the attackers, especially when Singleton and Renard retaliated using their firearms, and Flora her longbow. The officer, noting that the assault had really a bad start, ordered a withdrawal. The enemy left on the room two dead, but also two wounded soldiers that Sapphire knocked down using the handgrip on her long sword.

When a relative calm had returned, Flora and Renard noted that the Enemy had a recon sign: a white armband. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the room that could be used for making minimally credible armbands and the ones on the enemy soldiers would not be very credible, as there were currently red stains on them. Noting that two of her soldiers were missing, the female officer in charge of the assault, really caring for them and fearing that in despair the Heretics would kill them, tried to discuss with Renard.

"Don't do something stupid!" She shouted from the hallway. "Killing those soldiers will bring you nothing! I...I cannot promise that showing mercy is going to help you at your trial for Heresy, that would be a lie, but killing them will certainly not help your case!"

In other times, Renard would have certainly had sympathy for the officer. However, the current circumstances were a bit inappropriate for offer her a cup of tea... But as she was valuing the life of her soldiers, her involuntary help could be very precious. She would hesitate before launching a second attack; that could end quite bad, as the Heretics had nothing to lose. This could give enough time to Corail for succeed in her task.

She had managed to succeed. The guard post was a small room "defended" by what was clearly not the elite of the Citadel garrison. The good soldiers were already engaged, or guarding the key points of the Citadel like the gates, the Throne Room, or the Chapel. The fighting was really, really intense, but, mostly, it ended like Renard had predicted. Sure, many of the veterans of the War of Ajora did go down fighting, some in a truly spectacular way, but they still went down. One of the most spectacular fights involved Meliadoul, who tried to reach the Chapel for expressing (with her sword) her feelings about this outrageous treachery to the leading Church official in Lessaria, Cardinal Caetan. The Cardinal had twenty guards with him, just in case of a similar accident…

Meliadoul's swordplay alone had reduced this number to three, when archers sent in reinforcements had transformed her into a hedgehog. She was still conscious when Caetan, shaking from the precedent encounter, ordered his reining guards to immobilize her while he was brought his heavy staff down on her face. When a still living Meliadoul was sent to her cell, for await execution/interrogation, battle hardened veterans were deeply shocked by the mere sight. She was basically without Human features, right now.

It was a heroic way of getting captured. Sure, but seventeen guards killed or not; it was Caetan the winner and he would get away of this with a harsh upbraiding from the Inquisition, who knew that a disfigured accused (especially one that was quite pretty before their arrest) would give them a bad reputation. But this would cost Meliadoul her life even if she miraculously avoided death; she would never have a normal life. As she was making her way to the guard post, Corail was determined not to share that end. Living for fighting (and winning) another day was probably the best option.

Corail opened the last door to the guard post a few centimeters in perfect silence, to prevent raising attention. Using a small mirror to not expose herself, she looked down the hallway. Perfect. They were the only "Heretic" group in this hallway, but not on this level, and the sounds from a frantic battle were audible from the guard post, making the guards quite nervous. And prone to panic if they were surprise attacked.

But Corail had to dispatch them quickly. Although the hallway made an angle (hiding the guard post from the elite group trying to get them back at their chamber), the two points were quite close and if she did something wrong, reinforcements would arrive extremely fast, pinning her in place. A few seconds later, the guards noticed a thumping noise made by a small black object that just landed on their table. They all got up from their chairs, drew their swords and were covered by wood splinters after a loud explosion that created a sizable hole in the table. It was followed by smoke. This was too much for mere recruits. Following their orders to the letter, they withdrew and tried to reach the nearest elite reserve unit (the King was not dumb, and was not wasting the lives of his soldiers. For instance, sending recruits against Agrias was clearly suicide.), that had unfortunately already been sent in reinforcement. They would not come back for some time…

Corail estimated that she had around five minutes at most to complete her task. As she moved into the room, she noted that her weapon, one of those new things developed into the Fifty Years War, a "grenade" had done quite minimal damage. The psychological effect was out of proportion with the actual damage. She had just one of them. She would be in deep trouble in the guards came back, or if someone in the hallway had heard something. Anyway, releasing the portcullis correctly would be easy. One of the portcullis was mere meters from their room, in the opposite direction than the guard post. Releasing it would either cut the guards from their reinforcements or, if lucky, would divide them in small groups, allowing Renard and the others a slightly easier task….

Corail was about to perform her task when she noticed some movement out of the corner of her eyes. Corail cursed herself mentally. There was also an officer in the room, in a dark corner, visibly asleep at the moment she launched her attack. But wearing armor, and certainly much stronger than her. She had left her longbow in the other room. In normal combat, killing him with only a dagger would be very hard, but possible.

"You could just pretend," she said calmly, "that you never saw me, and resume sleeping."

"Yes," said the man to the astonishment of Corail "...I could say that...if..."

Corail thought for a moment that she had managed to pull out a kind of mind trick until she noticed, with horror, the way the man was looking at her. What he wanted was clear.

The way Corail took her dagger was also a very, very clear way to answer.

The obscene smile faded, but he was still very was not much a threat for him. The man was, judging by his insignia and his coat-of-arms, a Noble (this kind of behaviour was also very typical of a noble, Corail thought with pure rage).

"Last chance," said Corail very seriously. "Ignore me or face the consequences."

"YOU ask me to surrender, peasant girl? Soon, you are going to beg me to kill you!"

The train of thought of the noble was also extremely clear: he had a golden chance to capture alone (or kill by "accident") a Heretic... A female Heretic. A very pretty female Heretic. The kind of victim that no one would care about or that could be killed without trouble after... The second hypothesis was certainly the one he chose.

Corail dropped her dagger and backed herself against a wall, looking terrorized. The Noble grinned, visibly enjoying her apparent fear. He did not think that this way, Corail was shielding her hands from his eyes. Her hands, and the wire previously twisted around her left arm, were currently ready to be used against the Noble if he came too close...

But the Noble finally nailed his own coffin shut by his last sentence...

"If you don't scream, I may look the other way long enough for you to flee."

Corail was a very gentle person, and she hated to kill. She hated it almost as much as the Nobles, probably more. Her basic plan when she had saw the Noble was to distract him just long enough with her demand to "simply look away" (no one would have accepted to do that, with the Inquisition) for an opportunity to come close to him and then pass her wire around his neck, squeeze it until he collapsed and let him live. But in the current situation, this plan was somewhat revised. A flash from her past came back to her that made her clench her fists. That Noble bastard (Bastard was usually a term that angered Nobles a lot, because all their rights came from their supposedly glorious ancestors.

The fact that it made Nobles furious was the first reason why Corail always used this insult.) would not get out of this with his live. Corail said, in a barely audible voice, the name that had been triggered in her memory: "Lysithea..." The Noble could not understand and would not have cared if he knew who Lysithea was. He did not notice that the eyes of Corail were not showing the slightest bit of fear when he approached her.

Dropping the wire, Corail tried to push the noble away. More exactly, she did something that looked as she was trying to push him away, to cover her true action. The Noble, now mere centimeters away from her, grabbed her right wrist as Corail was attempting to strike him one more time, laughing. It was at this moment that he noticed that something was wrong, as there was now an indisputable thin smile of victory on the lips of Corail. He never realized it until it was too late that Corail had unsheathed his own sword with her left hand, and was silently raising to his back, while drawing his attention.

A few seconds later, Corail was trying to remove all the blood that she received on her face - she was much smaller than the Noble, and his neck was basically at her eye level. She was not very skilled with large swords, such as the broad one used by the Noble, and while extremely effective, her strike was not really surgical. In fact, it was quite a mess...There was a water tank nearby for collecting rain water (In the hope, though not often realized, that if guards had drinkable water at their possession, they would be less drunk when on duty.) No longer caring about the Noble, who was not dead (although he would be in a few minutes), she took two minutes to clean herself and her upper clothes

Showing up like that would raise questions from Flora and Renard, but also from the average Lessarian) It was at this time that she noticed an injury. The Noble had grasped her wrist so brutally that it had been severely bruised, to the point that she was slightly bleeding. This triggered her to say a sentence that was quite appropriate.

"You really think right now that the blood of the Nobles is different from the blood of others Humans? (This was a reference to the constant allusions by Nobles to their bloodlines, to their pride) Me, I'm pretty sure that it's the same thing, y' know?"

The Noble maybe heard the sentence, but he was no longer capable of answering. Corail released the portcullis and left the room in a hurry to assist her friends.

Her friends were lucky for once. The portcullis divided in two the group trying to get them and cut off the possibility of reinforcements. The handful of soldiers in the hallway section under "Heretic" control did their best, but were quickly killed, too badly injured to continue fighting, or stunned. The officer had to watch as her targets escaped. One of the archers with her fired an arrow. It clipped against one of the bars of the portcullis. The female "Heretic" archer noticed that, and with a single shot of her longbow, make everyone dive for cover as her arrow, a plain light arrow, not even a bodkin heavy arrow or one of the specialized one for cutting ropes, stunning opponents, actually _cut the string of the bow that just have been used. _This feat discouraged every attacker with a ranged weapon to try a duel with her. The portcullis weighting several tons (It was made as heavy as possible. It took machinery and hours to put it back in position), the officer ordered to pursue them by using others hallways. As the Citadel was a military building, all her construction was geared toward defense meaning, the number of access ways to the different sectors were limited. It would take a lot of time to resume the pursuit.

During that time, some dignitaries of the Church (the Inquisitor attached to the group was with the officer and her soldiers) and some Nobles decided to search the room for "compromising documents." The probability that someone was insane enough to bring within the Inquisition's reach writings of Heretic nature was quite low (What did they expect? That Renard had in his luggage a copy of the Germonik Scriptures?) But this search had the advantage keeping them off the battle lines. Unfortunately, there was a very basic trap laid as departure gift from Flora and Renard. It was the good old "curtains-that-have-been-torn-and-laid-out-as-a-getaway-rope" routine. Intrigued, one of the Nobles went to the window, to seeing if there was nothing compromising attached to the rope. A few seconds later, seen by a sentry in the courtyard, he received a three meters long bolt from one of the ballista in the thorax. He would have congratulated the ballista crew for its really remarkable precision, if that shot did not killed it on the spot. It was spectacular in a way, pinning him on one of the wall with tremendous strength.

The "Heretics" were at this time were several hundred meters from this position, trying to reach a secondary gate of the Citadel while avoiding both regular patrols and guard posts, but also the various hunting groups sent in their pursuit. What was predictable arrived quite fast. As Renard and his group were readying for a surprise assault on a guard post that commanded one of the few staircases available for leaving the level (this post was heavily guarded, unlike the other: there was several Knights of the Holy Office in their ranks.) a hunting detachment localized them, and immediately proceeded to the attack.

Although the group managed to block the nearest door, preventing their new enemies to attack them directly, they were pinned down, and surrounded. The hunting group quickly began to ram the door with a bench. It would hold for minutes, at the very best…

Renard heard the Inquisitor leading this hunting group giving orders for the assault. The problem was simple: each of the two enemy groups was strong enough to kill them all. And those groups were bound to combine their strengths within minutes…

"Let's stay calm", said Renard. "Our only chance is trying a bluff, to the death!"

Some time later, as the door behind them have started to crack under the relentless assault of the enemy, Renard and his group busted into the guard post, weapons in hand, but did not use them. Renard spoke to the astonished guards (that had already grabbed their own weapons, and were ready to use them) in a very commanding tone.

"In the name of Ajora, follow us! Quickly, heretics are trying to escape by using an infamous scheme! They have managed to take armbands from dead soldiers! The new recon sign must be a green armband, like this one (that Renard had torn from a curtain for himself and the others)! Be cautious: one of them have dared to disguise himself as an Inquisitor. What criminal audacity! And those cowards are on this level, probably coming right here to gain access to lower zones! We managed to lock them in the room behind us, but that will not hold them long! Come at once take position with us!"

Several guards did not look convinced, but some did. The usual persuasion of Renard, the total lack of uniformity in the gear of the Lessarian army (the only standardized gear was ceremonial only) made his statement credible. No Heretic would be insane enough to try something that risky, no? The fact that most of the guards trusted the newcomers was enough for the others to follow their example, especially when the said newcomers split up. Flora and Corail stayed in the post with some guards, to act as a sort of rearguard, while the three others moved with the guards to take up defensive positions…

Fearing the consequences if they let go a single Heretic, the enemy soldiers from both sides of the doors, when it was finally destroyed, acted in a way that was indisputably very foolish. They attacked each other immediately without taking the time necessary to realize that they had been fooled. By a rather provoked turn of events, the Inquisitor in the hunting group received two bullets in the first few seconds of the battle and was promptly finished by a perfectly executed sword strike by Sapphire.

With the only enemy with enough authority to stop this fight dead, it was very probable that the battle would end with the decimation of both sides (the secrecy of the King was playing against him. The elite units he brought for the capture of the Heretics came from all over Ivalice and the soldiers had been briefed on their objectives in separate groups, which meant they did not know each other.) More numerous, helped by Renard, Singleton and Sapphire, and in a defensive position, the soldiers from the guard post had a noted advantage. When they heard alarmed screams from their colleagues left behind (they were being methodically put out of fight by Flora and Corail), screams whose meaning was hidden by exclamations of rage against the Heretics made by the pair, Renard had not much trouble to convince them that they were attacked in the rear by traitors. Two of the three remaining Knights agreed to come back to the post with him, to help repelling this new attack. When they arrived, Flora and Corail, their longbows fitted with the dreaded anti-armor arrows were in perfect position. At almost point blank range, such projectiles were deadly. The Knights did not even have the time to say "Treason."

Some time after, Singleton and Sapphire, who had slowly withdrawn to not get attention, arrived and the whole group quietly and quickly left the level. When he left the area, Renard had the satisfaction of hearing the two groups of enemies continue the battle, mutually insulting themselves with the words "Heretics" and "Traitors," not realizing that the ones they should hunt were escaping. But with an entity like Ajora, how to be surprised about the dubious quality of some of his followers ?

He and Flora were actually having more sympathy for Celia and Lede, the two assistants of Marquis Elmdor, later for their probable true master, Ajora. At least, the pair was only trying to kill them! While Ajora tried to do something far worse to Alma…

Flora's nights were still haunted by the desperate screams of terror and anguish from that girl when, Ajora tried unsuccessfully to possess her in Muron. She was shivering whenever she thought about it...


	2. Chapter Two : The Squires

To add to this central problem, there was also the fact that, like any organization, the Church was taking for her "dirty" jobs not exactly the intellectual elite. Most Knights of the Holy Office were chosen for their blind obedience, for example (however, the recruitment was better for the others Orders...) However, and this was why they have killed the Inquisitor in priority, the Inquisition was not made of brainless monks...Inquisitors were not frantic and stupid fanatics, far from it. They were generally much more educated than most of the Nobles or even the High Clergy, and not only in matters such as theology. The Inquisition was also extremely methodical and careful in her recruitment: all Inquisitors were actual believers in Ajora, and were totally incorruptible, persuaded that they were working for the triumph of the true Faith.

All this was only making the Inquisition more dangerous than any opponent for someone that had attracted her wrath. The Inquisition, like in fact most of the courts of justice in Ivalice, was of course using physical torture on prisoners. But, usually, Inquisitors were not only wanting the barely credible confessions that could always be obtained by those methods...They were also using more subtle pressures, that could lead the accused of actually believing that they _were _truly guilty of Heresy. A golden example of those very devious methods was the way their oaths of safe passage have been written...that have been respected, in a way. It was mentioned on the documents "_that all the individuals concerned with this case of Heresy must come to Lessaria for the hearings_".

What would happen if this condition was not meet was not openly said, but a very good hypothesis was that the safe passage would not be granted...Or, little problem, two Heretics, and certainly not the less prominent ones, had concluded a sort of ''gentleman deal'' with Delita...This gave the Inquisition a golden pretext for arresting the others...Other thing, this condition forced the ''Heretics'' that were (rightfully) cautious about the Inquisition and the Church, to follow to their doom in Lessaria their friends that believed in it, since their absence at the meeting could be used as a pretext for arresting the "Heretics" that would have come to the meeting. An absolutely perfectly conceived trap (although the execution of the said trap was somewhat flawed, since Renard and his group were at least on the way to freedom. But this was a very, very, very long way)

The main objective was to reach a secondary gate, or any decent exit, in the hope that it would not be too heavily guarded. In any case, they had to move constantly, since staying in the same place would allow their enemies to get them, by the portcullis, guard posts, and groups patrolling the hallways for getting them...Most of the time, the ''Heretics'' avoided the patrols, as any delay could be fatal for their escape. They only fight the battles that could not be avoided...Fortunately, those were only small groups for now, made of regular garrison soldiers (from the regular Ivalician army, the Ost, not the Knight Orders) ...But there was clearly some good-sized elite units that were dispatched against them, because as time was passing, there was less ''Heretics'' alive and free...

The casualties had been terrible, but there were still thousands of enemy soldiers in Lessaria...while a mere dozen of them could mean the end of the little group.

And in addition of being badly outnumbered, they were in a bad position gear-wise too…

Saphirre Flora and Corail tried to compensate by making use of the presence of numerous killed, stunned, or wounded female opponents. They equipped themselves hastily with light armour pieces better fitted with their….morphologies….than the ones they had took earlier, on the first guards they had fought. It was an improvement: the armour they had previously had an irritating tendency of impending their breath and movements…

Short of this fact, that most armours where designated according to gender, (and for extremely obvious and purely physicals reasons…), there was no real distinctions between male and female soldiers here. Ivalice was a nation with weaknesses, like all nations, but like the neighbouring Valencia, it was certainly not a backward thinking nation like Damaskia or Rovannia (backward being really a euphemism for Damaskia). This was a thing that Corail, Flora (and probably Saphirre) were acutely aware: being female in Damaskia (and to a lesser extent in Rovannia) was a nightmare…

Those gender issues put apart, even with the "liberated" gear (also including bullets, gunpowder charges, arrows...) their equipment was still wholly inadequate...For instance, Flora and Corail had only two quivers worth of light arrows (including the ones took on enemies), useless against armoured targets, and even less of the precious heavy ones...

But at least, they found something that was stimulating: After turning one corner, they found out a group of Knights, six of them, in a furious battle against opponents that were hard to see. But those opponents were clearly not on the side of the Knights…and this was far enough for the "Heretics". When the Knights were attacked from the sides by Renard group, they were so surprised that, quickly, the survivors of the said attack pulled out...for coming back as soon as possible with reinforcements...But Renard did not cared about that, because he was overjoyed about the identity of the targets of the Knights….

"Lavian ! Alice ! Are you all right? Are you the only other survivors than us? "

"I…Yes, I, think that we are the only ones, with you…" said a visibly exhausted Lavian, while she was trying to tend the best she could the severe injury she had on the right arm. Alice was not in a better shape: the way she was holding her ribs and her quite harsh breathing probably indicated that she received a severe blow of flail in her midsection.

Little consolation, it was probable that, judging by the blood on theirs blades, they had managed at least to injure several of their opponents, despite the fact that they were in full battle armour, while Alice and Lavian had just their clothes to protect them...

No shields, no armour: their gear was down to two short swords of mediocre quality, taken from the first guards they managed to disarm. Surviving with that was quite a feat.

But it was not their light clothing that was making them shiver so much that this was perfectly visible. Sure, Lessarian nights were often quite cold at time of the year…And well, it was quite obvious that they did not have the time to dress up fully…

What was making them shiver was the fact that they were doomed...Fear...It was fully justified in their case...How two squires (Alice and Lavian, even if they were barely around eighteen, were Knights, but they were still called squires, as they were the pages of Agrias) even quite skilled could hope or win against a full garrison? If they get did not get killed in battle, or kill themselves, they would end in a cell, with one perspective.

Trial. Which meant torture, mental breaking, humiliation, and to top this, execution…

No wonder that their morale seemed to be quite low…On this point, charging at two (like Alice and Lavian did…) a full group of Knights of the Holy Office with such deficient gear was probably as close as possible as suicide without physically making the act.

That said, with the help of another group, their chances of survival increased significantly...If they had the same objective as the other group...This was not the case.

"Come with us ! ", said Corail "I'm sure that with some skill, we can manage to escape"

"No ! (Lavian had a quite despaired voice when she said that.) "Our...our mistress, Agrias, stayed behind to hold them...and was captured...and she did this for allow us to escape this infernal trap... We will NEVER let her in the hands of the Inquisition!"

Lavian and Alice had accepted to withdraw only because Agrias had given us the formal order to do so. Agrias really cared about the lives of her squires, who were in this situation because of her. Agrias had in better times noted, half-jokingly, that her squires would certainly follow her in Pandemonium if she ordered them to do so…Half-jokingly, since the other half was mild-concern over the…mental health…of Alice and Lavian.

Loyalty is a nice thing, especially for knights, but at the point showcased by her squires...

Both Alice and Lavian were quite realist and intelligent. For surviving a childhood almost alone in what was left of the Damaskian Kingdom those qualities were quite needed (as well as some other characters traits that were, how to say, maybe less likable…)

They knew perfectly that they would never been able to assault the detention area of the Citadel, even with the help of the others ''Heretics'' that they just met...The greatest strategy or tactic or the most astonishing swordplay would never been enough to overcome the defences...The only thing that awaited them in the Citadel was death...And, the fact was, neither Alice or Lavian wanted particularly to survive this night...

"Err, Lavian...I don't want to look cynical, but I'm sure that you risk before anything else to follow her in jail, which will not be very helpful on the long run...We are seven, poorly armed, against a full garrison. The best we can hope to do is to get out of this trap alive..._Then, _trust me, we will do anything to save the ones that have fallen in the hands of the Inquisition...or, if the worst happen, avenge them. You can't do anything-"

Flora suddenly stopped her phrase, realizing what Alice and Lavian were meaning.

"_We will NEVER let her in the hands in the Inquisition" _Add this to some fact that had been bugging her…How they had managed to cross the path of Alice and Lavian ? They were lodged with Agrias, in a fully different wing than Renard and the others !

It could have been pure luck, but this was unlikely…A thing with much higher probability was that theirs paths crossed because they were right now close to the heart of the Citadel, an area that was connected with most of the complex…Flora and her group were trying to get _out _of this area. Lavian and Alice probably rather tried to get in (Flora had been lodged in an area that forced the crossing of this area…while Agrias had been housed in a separate tower, conveniently easy to seal off, that _did not _required to pass in this area. This meant that the squires were not here for the same reasons than Flora…

The two squires did not even have hopes to rescue Agrias. What they wanted was to avenge her, by taking down the maximum number of foes before they get killed or captured (hopefully, killed). This including one target in priority, the worse traitor.

The King…Delita…And it was not the first time he betrayed…

They were not headed for the gates: Alice and Lavian tried to reach the Throne Room!

Renard, when he heard Alice replying quite nervously that they had "to do this", with clear tension in her voice, realized that they were before anything else in shock, and that they were just thinking about the dark treason from which they were all victims.. But for them, one "Heretic" in particular was very important: Agrias, the Heresiarch...

Alice and Lavian were both very attached to Agrias...For what Renard had understood, they had a very harsh life in Damaskia before Agrias had picked them as her squires, and both saw Agrias as the person that had given them a chance, despite their...dubious pasts.

(Neither Alice and Lavian had spoke much on this topic, who was probably explosive…)

They were not in their normal state of mind, and reasoning them would probably not work, even with Renard's indisputable skills for diplomacy and discussion...But no one in Renard's group was ready to let them go to their deaths without trying something...

"Hey, Singleton?" said naturally and quietly Flora "Do you still have some doses of those medicinal herbs you found in Yarjilow and prepared? (To Alice and Lavian) You should take some of them, this...would prove quite useful on the long run, trust me..."

Singleton remained frozen for a moment...Did Flora just gone insane? Yes, he have bought some medicinal herbs during their last stay at Yarjilow and prepared them for obtain a very high quality substance, remarkably potent. But how could this substance could be useful to the squires? This was now a narcotic strong enough to drop down in a few seconds any Human when it entered bloodstream, without much side effects. He had prepared it for coating the tips of the arrow of Flora and Corail, for the numerous times where killing everyone in sight was maybe not the smartest option available.

For instance, Flora would have given _anything _for having at her disposition one of those arrows during one battle in particular...The one in which Miluda have been killed.

Maybe, this way, Corail would not have been depressed/shocked like she had been…

However, Singleton realized what was Flora's plan quite fast...She preferred to have an extremely aggressive discussion with Alice and Lavian when they woke up then leave them here to their horrible fates...Singleton was mildly worried about the time it would take for the effects to kick in if the narcotic was taken by oral way rather than by the bloodstream, but this was certainly the better thing they could do in the situation...

Renard and Corail had understood what Flora was meaning, too, and took their best "natural" looks. All this would make their evasion/escape even harder, since they would have to carry the unconscious Alice and Lavian. At five, it was possible, but hard. And this would have slowed them. But this was far better than letting them go to their deaths.

The risk was high, but saving two more lives was certainly worthy enough to try it…

Saphirre, always cold and detached, merely waited to see how things would turn out...What make this simple plan was in part the fact that Singleton was a very bad comedian (a drunk, blind and deaf cow would have noticed that there was something strange about they way he handed the vial to Alice), and also the natural defiance of Alice. She took the little vial, however. And "accidentally" dropped it. She was grateful for the efforts about saving her and Lavian, even from themselves. Alice even found this admirable. On the other hand, nothing would make her and Lavian changes their goals.

"Alice", said Renard, "listen me...Do you think that the Inquisition deserve to have two more preys for her pyres? There is already enough prisoners for illuminating several nights of Lessaria ! We are the only hope they have...if we survive to this night...Trust me, things will be hard and complicated enough if we manage to get out of here..."

"Yes, yes (there was more than a hint of…frenzy…in Alice voice) ! Tell me what you hope to do after we leave the Citadel ? You really think that you are going to be able to mount a rescue operation ? Damn, Renard, don't try to fool me...You know like me that they will all die on the stake, even if you do your best to save them...and I'm sure you will, by the way...What will you do, hmm ? You know how powerful is the Inquisition and the Church in Ivalice...You will hide into abandoned mines and in the woods ? To turn out fugitive, brigand, scorcher, or even worse ? It's really hopeless, Renard...We are all doomed. In my opinion, we are better to at least fall with some dignity...

Alice had pointed out something that was quite true...If Renard and Flora had come here in the first place, it was because they knew that the Inquistion could have find them if they did not. This would still be the case after (the only difference was that, this Inquisition would have a mere five person group to hunt, not a much larger one)

Although Renard and Flora knew a...fact...that could change that problem, from Alice and Lavian point of view, it was probably true that the future was quite bleak, and that it was better to end "it" now. It was not true, but it was impossible to convince them….

The only point that Renard still could invoke was the fact that if Agrias stayed behind for allow her two pages to flee, then Alice and Lavian had, for not make her sacrifice worthless, to escape...Unfortunately, Agrias never realized how worthless her two squires considered themselves when compared to her, despite their skills...

Which was actually quite simple: they felt completely worthless.

The only feeling left in Alice and Lavian was the hate of the King that betrayed them so cowardly, giving them oaths of safe passage, and treated those documents as scrapes of papers... And, to the top of it, there was the death of Queen Ovelia...Agrias had always found the official version of an assassin group that assaulted the King and Ovelia quite dubious. Of course, those rumours were coming straight from the Citadel, and blamed Heretics for this matter. Sure, the wounds of the King were so severe that it was quite clear that they had not been inflicted by him. But the weapon used for causing the wounds, whose broken blade have been retrieved after the attack by no one less than Agrias, was a bit surprising...A ancient short sword, quite fancy, but that was of extremely dubious combat value : the fact that it broke when striking at the unprotected King was an ample proof of that. An assassin sent against the King, an exceptionally skilled swordsman, was crazy enough to try to do it with such a bad sword ?

The sword was likely coming from an expensive mural display...the kind of weapon that someone without the slightest knowledge of swordplay, but fearing something, would have took for defence. It was also the kind of person that the King did not think dangerous, since this person was obviously the first one to strike, from the face...Last point, it was a bit strange that an assassin skilled enough for almost killing the King did the mistake of not finishing the job...This left only one potential "suspect".

Ovelia…

And "princess" Ovelia certainly did not attempt to kill Delita for no reason...Knowing the past action of Delita, there was a very high possibility that he was about to kill Ovelia (for secure his throne) when she attacked him, in a desperate act of self-defence...

Alice, when she heard about that from Agrias, had basically thought that if the world had been fairer, Ovelia would have live, and the King die...But the world was not fair, they were the living proof of it. Agrias and her squires had been during a long time the companions of Ovelia...her death have affected them terribly...And now, well, the last lingering doubts they had about the culpability of the King were gone.

Both Lavian and Alice were accordingly not thinking very clearly right now….thus the desperate efforts from Renard to make them see that there was another option…

"It's true that we will probably not able to stay in any Ivalican city on the long run...But I don't plan to hide in forests or mines...We will "simply" go Overseas...In Valencia. _After _have trying _everything _to save _any _of our comrades of arms...Including you two !"

At those words, Singleton and Corail looked each other (as usual, Saphirre showed no reaction.) finding this comment somewhat peculiar...Valencia ? Renard and Flora seemed quite sure to find a very safe haven in this Kingdom (from which they were not natives: they had stated several times being Lessarians...) to the point that they had told several times, before their arrival in Lessaria to the three others members of their party too not worry to much about what they will do if the Inquisition tried to arrest them

The tricky question was _why _they did not used this possibility before...Was it a kind of desperation solution? Judging by the tone of Renard and Flora, it was unlikely…

Whatever was the answer, both Corail and Singleton awaited it with some impatience...Because, there was a slight problem with Valencia: it was a powerful nation, sharing a lot of traits with Ivalice (as the names showed it clearly...Was Ivalice an anagram of Valencia, or was it the reverse ? The only thing that was sure was that, at some point Ivalice and her sister nation won a quite intense war against their rivals, the conflict being named with fantastic originality the Great War) and the same animosity toward Rovannia...The slight problem was that Valencia was the long time ally of Ivalice, and the Valencians, including their Queen, would certainly agree to help their allies to arrest some Heretics: even if the Queen personally disliked Delita...

"Going to Valencia seeking refuge...Oh, what a good plan ! No need to worry anymore, everything is fine! I have another plan in the same lines ! Why we did not install ourselves in the vaults beneath Riovannes? We could also seek out Vieras cities ! "

The poor Lavian was almost (almost ?) hysterical when she was saying that

The last Viera, if they actually existed, which was not sure at all, with all the time that passed since the Great War (it was what, three, four millenniums ago? No wonder that historians were always saying opposite things about the past of Ivalice, with such imprecision for the dates...) had died some centuries after this terrible conflict. And moreover, they were not living in cities in the Human sense of the word.

Making false maps of Vierans cities and selling them to inexperienced adventurers, who never wondered why someone was selling maps of cities supposed to be full of forgotten treasures for a mere fifty Gil, was a very profitable business (Corail, Renard and Flora had produced very interesting similar maps, more credible and more detailed than most maps on the market. But that did not sell as well….) So, saying "I would rather go find a Vieran city"' was almost like saying "I would rather go dressed as an Rovannian Cardinal in Muria" or "I would rather jump bleeding into a pool full of sharks..."

The part about the vaults of Riovannes had the same meaning. There were certainly several vaults beneath the wrecked citadel that have been destroyed in the Second Siege of Riovannes, but if those vaults contained of course some treasures, they also contained some disturbing legends such as the one of the Blue Ghost, and in a more-down-to-earth way, also a wide variety of very aggressive enemies, brought in the past as guards beasts They varied greatly in size, degree of cunning, sheer physical power, but all of them were fully willing to attack any Human foolish enough to adventure itself in the maze below the ruined network of towers. And this was not considering the said "Blue Ghost"

The name was coming from her color...The "Ghost" part was dubious, however, as she had nothing of the Undead. The unusual (well, considering that it was about ghosts, after all…) part was that this apparition of a teenage Human girl, always located in the lowest levels of the maze, powerful to the point that the most powerful exorcist incantations make her merely smile, simply asked to the ones that saw her to leave the place, in an extremely polite, but quite cold too, voice...To those that did not complied immediately, nothing nasty happened, as there was nothing lower in the vaults. So, on the long run, all adventurers had complied with this polite injunction...the wild rumours that Riovannes destruction was related to the Blue Ghost, being not foreign to this moderation...

By curiosity, when they occupied Riovannes during the War of Ajora, the Enemy had sent a full company of soldiers explore the place (and to secure some loot, too, of course…). Surprisingly, a good number of soldiers returned to the surface, alive and sane of spirit, although an even bigger number of their comrades have been killed. They had found nothing but the bones of unlucky predecessors and horde of predators. This prompted the Enemy to proceed with one more sealing of all access to the vaults...that would last until the next attempt to find the fabled secrets of those Vaults

Thus, both sentences were clear….Lavian had not exactly a good opinion on the plan of going in Valencia, and was finding it as stupid as her own suggestions….

"Well", tried Flora, "if you want, we can also try Damaskia...No one will ever think that we are mad enough to try to go there...And, I'm quite sure it's not as bad as they say..."

Flora had said that in the hope of pleasing Alice and Lavian., and convince them to abandon their plan...After all, most Humans were feeling good at the perspective of seeing their homeland. Her and Renard had been quite happy, despite the Inquisition, to see one more time the town in which they were born, despite some...bad...souvenirs.

Unfortunately, Damaskian "cities", if they still deserved this name, were far worse place to live in time of peace than a besieged Ivalician city during the Civil War...

"In Damaskia ? (Lavian really screamed this time…) All my life was about leaving this forsaken land ! I will _never _return to Damaskia ! NEVER ! YOU HEAR ME ? "

"Lavian, said in a soothing voice Alice, calm down...and don't scream like that ! You will bring others guards !" (This perfectly rational comment seemed to be a good sign to Renard...Maybe Alice was realizing the foolishness of what she was about to do,...)

"Well", said Corail in an attempt to lift a bit of the tension, "it's sure that now, Damaskia is much more the Kingdom of Ashes rather than the fabled land of princess Ashe..."

"You are quite right", said quietly Alice. "I have not love for my homeland...only hate for it...What burned centuries ago was not just the Damaskian towns...it was civilization too...The cities may been more or less rebuilt...civilization will never be...I was doomed from my birth to a dreadful fate, like all Damaskia is...I'm quite happy to have a few good years with Agrias and Lavian, but this was just a small interlude...Between dying on the stake, or receiving a knife in the back in Damaskia, is there really a difference on the long run ? (She laughed in a way that made everyone shiver...) Our fate is sealed..."

"Hey, an Human is the primary maker of his own fate ! Only those damned Nobles truly wishes to have lives is determined by their birth ! (although, in their case, it's much about the "glorious" ancestors from ten generations away than the position of the stars...Two way to determine fate as false as the other...) There is still hope, you know ! No one is forcing you to go to yours deaths ! Agrias like you, she wants both of you alive and free ! The only thing that we can be assured", continued Corail, "is that no one will lift a little finger to help us if we are arrested...The ones in our ranks that could actually strike deals with the King already made it, without thinking too much to us (She was making reference to two persons, not named by her, but that everyone identified without the slightest difficulty) But if we stay alive, we have a chance, a tiny one I must admit, of being able to score a decisive victory against the Inquisition, the King...and Ajora ! "

"Against Ajora ? ", said with derision Lavian. "Corail, I wonder sometimes if you had actually realized who (or maybe what) Ajora was...It's probably better for your sanity that you are with so little faith... We never had a real chance against him...HE IS A GOD, DAMNIT ! AJORA IS A GOD ! How can we defeat, or kill, a God ?"

Both Flora and Renard took this attack on Corail more than a little unfair-the matter evoked by Lavian was as personal as it could be, but Corail herself took it well…


	3. Chapter Three : Escape and Despair

"Lavian, I must admit that I don't know who was exactly Ajora...Or _what _he was, like you said...But, he is not unbeatable, we are the living proof of it...We defeated Ajora ! It's the Church that is against us, not him ! Our opponents are like us: Humans !"

"Our victory changed nothing...You noticed the slightest chance in the behaviour of the Nobles or the Church ? They don't care about the truth...They care about conserving their power, by any means...Ajora? He must be laughing of us ad our efforts currently...

"Alice", tried one last time Renard. "Please, don't do this. You...you are completely despaired, and you are not thinking clearly right now, you know this as well as me..."

"You are right, Renard...What I'm going to do is madness, I'm aware of it...I fear...what will happen to me, the Question...The torture...The Death...I'm not like Agrias...this is terrorizing me...But what I fear most is...that you are going to be able to convince me...And I know that if I don't go with you, you are able to follow us...I don't want that. So, it's why I'm going to do something that...that will really seal my fate..."

Fully conscious of sending both of them to death, Alice made a sign to Lavian, who had slightly withdrawn...Renard and Flora understood what she was about to do, especially when Alice lifted her eyes toward the roof...toward the portcullis released by Lavian, just in front of her. It felt with a thundering noise, separating them from the group.

"You can't do anything for us, now" said softly Alice. "Leave, before guards come..."

Her and Lavian turned their backs toward Renard and Flora, and the squires walked toward the stairs that would lead them to the Throne Room. Even with magic, the porticulis would have been almost impossible to destroy or lift. Renard had to watch them walk to their death...It was really a horrible thing, feeling so powerless...

Alice turned back once, briefly, when she was about to be out of voice range...

"Please...go...Escape. I'm sure that you are able to do it...Please understand me...It...will help us to know that some persons are aware of the truth...It will be a warming thought under the Question...The...the Inquisition will discover what we done in Damaskia before coming in Ivalice (She had tears in the eye when she said this...) We...we lied to Agrias...She will hate us...At least, we will be here for defend our names..."

Lavian sensed that her friend was about to break, and gently took her by the arm...It was time to go. Alice nodded and followed her…A few seconds later, they were out of sight.

The Knights of the Holy Office came back at this moment, with reinforcement. They overwhelmed the group by two to one...But they had chosen a very bad moment.

The "Heretics" defended themselves with such fury (fuelled by the scene that they just saw...) that in a few minutes, most of the soldiers were dead or critically wounded...

"Time is really running out", said Renard after the battle. "They will send more and more soldiers after us...Our best choice is, in my opinion, the river...We just have to gain access to a point of the Citadel next to it...and jump. The security on the river is ridiculous: they never managed to enforce taxes in all the history of Lessaria..."

Although they were all more shaken by their meeting with friends than the numerous one with enemies in the past hour, they managed to reach quickly one of the outer walls of the Citadel...And, just below them, the dark waters of the Lessari river were visible...

"It's at least twenty five meters down", said Flora, judging the distance. "It's a quite impressive dive, especially in total darkness, but it should be survivable"

"Let's not complain for a forced bath in the river...Our companions risk the opposite."

Renard, Saphirre and Singleton, after dropping their dubious armour pieces for not risk drowning, jumped first, "landing" quite hard, but staying in one piece...

The two last members of their group were about to follow them when, cursing, Flora noticed that a huge fluvial ship was about to pass below them. The crew had not noticed the three first jumps, but they would certainly notice the ones from Corail and Flora...They had to wait until the ship passed. Problem, the enemy was on their tracks...Crouched like Flora to not raise attention, Corail lifted her eyes toward the sky...It was always a welcoming sight when you just escaped detention, trial, torture and death.

"Flora", she said after a moment, "I found a place were we would be safe...Up here !"

Corail was jokingly making reference to Daymio, perfectly visible in the night sky, her disk two times bigger than the Sun during the day. The frozen oceans and the snowy plains of Daymio, very easy to see during clear nights, have made of this place in many myths a place of punishment for errant souls. Their world was not having a mere moon in their sky: they had a full planet, a Sister World...It was quite clear that Daymio had the same characteristics as their world, minus one thing: life. It had been used in religion as a warning of what could happen to Ivalice if Humans did not follow Ajora teachings.

-Daymio? Yeah, good plan...We just have to overcome the slight problem of getting her in the first place...Seriously, you are right, we can never put too much distance between us an the Inquisition...But wilderness also helps, like the Murianeses shows it...

-Flora...I owe to you and your brother my life, my freedom...all...Are you sure that...that I'm not a burden to you ? I...I don't always find myself useful, and...you know, if I'm captured, I'm going to bring you a lot of trouble with my...past engagements...

-Don't say that, replied Flora in her most gentle voice. You are not a burden at all, and-

At this moment, loud noises began to come from the door leading to the wall...

-Jump now ! The cog is almost away...I will hold them back for a few seconds...

Flora simply waited until the first soldier busted through the door, then fired a single arrow, that killed on the spot, as she was letting her drop in the river...This slowed the others, but the fear effect did not last long. Several soldiers rushed to the rampart, saw what happened, and acted in a way that make their commander, a female officer named Kasumi (the same officer that tried everything to save the soldiers in her command took prisoners at the start of the battle...She was quite glad that the Heretics did not kill them...) express very colourfully her opinions on their mental faculties. The Inquisition official that was with her expressed his similar feelings in a more diplomatic way

"I can't believe that jumped in pursuit, into the river, without taking off their armour first! (She waved the hand to issue orders to the soldiers in her group that had showed more sense) Bring some naphtha! (Kasumi planned to use it to light up the dark water...) Ah, too late, they are certainly away, now. We will never catch them tonight. Rather, sent soldiers on the banks of the river, in the hope that they will be able to recover some of our heroic "act now, think later" soldiers...We are not going to catch those five tonight..."

"You did what you could, Captain, and your pursuit was flawless... (The Inquisitor shook his head...) And, believe me, I'm sure my hierarchy will prefer your "frontline" command style to the shameful actions of Cardinal Caetan…This battle is finally over"

"Not totally. From what I heard, there is still two Heretics not arrested...The squires of Agrias...Poor girls, they have been brought in all this mess by the Heresiarch...Anyway, I think the King want them to go in the Throne Room...And then, capture them in front of Her. In my opinion, it will take more, much more, to impress Her even slightly..."

"How to blame him…She is the living proof of the favour Ajora is giving to us..."

Kasumi was not convinced by this sentence, not at all, but she said nothing...

During that time, Alice and Lavian were arriving in the Throne Room…to their doom.

There were two persons awaiting them in the Throne Room. It was the King, but also an unknown woman with red eyes. The said eyes were carrying a quite terrifying expression. When this woman looked at them in the eyes, it took a great effort of will of the two Damaskians for not sending their weapons clicking on the floor. And, anyway, they realized quite fast that they were doomed...Behind them, the greats stairs leading to the Throne Room had been silently occupied by a full company of the Royal Guard...Moreover, the passageways above the Throne Room were filled with archers and crossbowmen, half of their weapons pointed toward the two squires...The other half, hold quite nervously by their owners, were pointed toward the unknown woman! This information could be useful, some days...or would have be it, if they had a future...

"All the Heretics have been taken, Lloth" said the King, without even lifting himself from his throne (Why would he have done such a thing? Alice and Lavian would be transformed into pink cushions quite fast if they made the slightest move in his direction. His companion stayed in the shadows, overlooking the whole situation…)

"Not even. Some have managed to leave the Citadel. And certainly not the dumbest of the bunch...My mistress will be very disappointed from this, King. You owe her much, to her and her allies, and your recent performance, although showing certain goodwill, is not fully adequate. Must I remind you that earning her wrath would cost you much?"

The thin smile that lightened the desperate face of Lavian and Alice (at least, Renard and his group have escaped) was quickly remarked by the woman named Lloth...

"You will laugh less in few hours, when the Inquisition will begin it's…interviews. I may recommend you kindly to their services (Here followed without the slightest modification in the tone, without the slightest emotion, a very graphical description of the Ordinary, than Extraordinary Question that would be inflicted to all. Alice and Lavian knew it in advance, but Lloth description still made them shiver. This would be horrible.

"I wonder why", tried Alice to show her determination, "we will be submitted to the Question ? You don't want us to confess, you want us to shut up. The second point goes very well with an execution on a pyre, but quite bad with a torture sequence, in which, like cowardly Heretics, we will talk...and not only what you want to hear...

-A truly excellent question, little squire. It's simply for reasons of internal politics. You know as well as me as the current situation is somewhat...troubled...The unfortunate death of the Queen, for example. There is some...rumours...about who was behind it...

"I'm not sure the death of Queen Ovelia was unfortunate or mysterious for everyone, said Alice in a defiant tone..." (It helped her not to think about the upcoming Question)

Alice noted with satisfaction that she had angered the King with that quite obvious accusation...If he could order his archers to kill her and Lavian on the spot, that would be an relatively easy exit from their lives...But the King did not gave that order...Alice, desperate, thought that she should have asked Singleton for a quick effect poison...it would have been less gruesome (and easier) than cutting her tongue with her teeth.

"Ah", said, almost laughing, Lloth, after Alice had finished her sentence. "You are more defiant than others. Trust me, you will not believe what you have done when you will have signed those confessions. Little question: as your mistress was the commander of the Princess escort, guess who is going to make very credible murderers of Ovelia. ?"

"From your shocked looks, I see that this possibility is troubling you...A certitude, more precisely...You will accuse yourselves of that...You will cry in front of your judges, saying that you are not worthy of their mercy...On the way to the stake for your execution, we will have to protect you, since the Lessarians will want to kill you more slowly than us for the death of their Queen...Also, you make someone quite angry-I don't think I need to precise who...and, trust me, he will enjoy the slow death of his enemies. Moreover, I...Hmmm...I understand what you are thinking…."

"You hope to buy time. Each second me and the King took to talk to you is a second in which we cannot coordinate the hunt for the ones that managed to flee. Well, you are right. But their freedom is not going to help you...Your trial is going to be public, with so many guards that not even an army is going to be able to disrupt it. And, don't think that me or the King are dumb enough to not take precautions about small team infiltration..."

"I…will never make about a confession about crimes that I did not commit….

Lavian said that…She was about to burst in tears, because she knew that Lloth was not bluffing. This was what would happen...And they would also be qualified as coward…Lloth, sensing that Lavian was near breakdown, continued to describe what would happen to her…Alice tried to get her attention, for defending a bit her friend...

"Mmh. You just gave me an idea…I will communicate it to the Inquisition. You will make credible confessions, gentle damsels, trust me. The Inquisition is very good at discovering your little secrets...You are from Damaskia, from what I heard. For leaving this wonderful kingdom, you probably have done some little things that would be…painful...to hear, hmm ? (The way both Alice and Lavian paled when they heard that was a clear indication for Lloth to continue in this direction...) I'm sure that you will prefer confess Heresy than let everyone know who where truly the so courageous squires of the Heresiarch...You don't have the choice...Your mistress, the Heresiarch, will make one too, explicit and detailed...And, only after that, you will have the peace of the death."

The two "Heretics" then tried to at least go down fighting. This was really the place and the time to do that, after all. They made movement in direction of the King and Lloth. Even if they reached them, their chances of victory were...quite low. Delita before turning to one of the darkest traitor of Ivalician history, was a fearsome warrior. It was probably still the case. And for Lloth, still in the shadows...It was obvious that the King _feared _her.

During their brief charge, both Alice and Lavian, when Lloth turned slightly to give orders to the archers, saw something, very briefly, that make them stop...The vision was too short to stay in their memories...on the long run, not a bad thing at all...

"Aim for the legs, weapons, and arms...If they die...oh, I think you can guess the rest..."

A rain of projectiles fell down on them. Alice tried a deflection trick with her sword, a skill from the Far East, that she saw performed numerous times by Agrias with great skill...But Agrias had far more experience, and she was deflecting one, two, three projectiles...Not fifty. She managed to push away a single arrow. But a very well placed shot clipped her sword away. An arrow pierced her hand. Two others landed in her left leg. After, she collapsed, the pain being unbearable. Lavian lasted not much longer...Soon, both were unconscious...Not for long. Lloth came next to them, and viciously kicked them in the ribs. For one time, she made a mistake: Alice left hand was close enough to Lavian's sword...She grabbed it, and tried a last strike. Lloth looked her with contempt...And smashed her hand with her feet. Alice, for one time, screamed.

-You were clearly more courageous than others. But all this will not help you, little squires. (To the guards) Tear up the arrows from them, and incarcerate them too... After giving them medical treatment...It would be a shame if they die only of their injuries...

**Some days after, in the outskirts of Lessaria...**

"Hey, be cautious, Singleton. That bolt is really hurting me ! And you are not helping..."

"I'm doing what I can, but you know that this kind of barbed ammunition is really hard to extract...Brace yourself, I will take out the largest splinter...This is going to hurt..."

"Oh, I really hate it when you are saying things like that, sighed Corail..."

She did not scream, only grunted in pain. But this perfectly audible from the outside...

The elderly couple that was outside with Flora was more than worried...and, despite the fact that she was struggling to keep an "everything is fine" look, Flora was worried too.

"Miss, are you sure your friend will be all right ? This seems really, really painful..."

"To be honest, I'm...I'm really no longer sure...This is awfully long, really..."

In a recent skirmish, Corail had been injured two bolts with barbed tip, the kind that made quite severe injuries. Her light leather armour, of a really dubious quality had prevented two others projectiles directed at her midsection to reach her skin, but one add landed in her unprotected left forearm, and the other had been fired at point blank range by an enemy crossbowmen in her back, almost piercing her left shoulder blade...

That she was able to talk coherently, although her teeth were rattling, while Singleton had managed to remove the projectile from her forearm was due to the fact that her nervous system had more or less shut down around the injuries...for the time being. He could only hope that the effect would held longer, as the one in the shoulder blade was proving yet harder to extract... Singleton was not really worried about Corail on the long run, however. Despite the appearance, she was extremely resilient, and it would take a _lot _to kill her. Moreover, receiving projectiles in the body was pretty much a routine for any adventurer/mercenary, and with a good ''medic'' like Singleton, this was just an unpleasant moment. A very unpleasant one, but far better than torture and Question...

"Hey, careful with your eyes, you ! Try to peek, and I'm going to slap, you are warned!"

Corail was of course, stripped down to the waist for the removal of the bolt...But she was not worried. Singleton would never have done that, anyway, as he was very professional...and a very decent guy, like Renard. She actually really liked both of them

"Corail" replied Singleton, taking the matter seriously, "you are resting on your stomach...How could I see yours...yours...oh, you know what I mean-in this position ?"

"My what, "Singie" ? I bet you are right now more red than the redder I could have make your cheek by slapping you...Doing it .would be really, really overkill..."

"Ah, ah...very, very funny...Now, really don't move, please...One...two...three..."

Immediately after three, Corail felt a very sharp pain, and quickly after that, hear Singleton saying that this was over. He dressed her wound as fast as possible. Deep, but not serious, and with Corail good health, the risks of scars were really minimal...Corail would have to rest for a couple of day, however, for not worsen her condition...

As Corail was dressing up, Singleton moved toward the door, to warn Flora that she could come in...The couple next to her hurried her to not forget about what they said to her. She nodded, and took an object they had given to her some time ago...

The smile on Corail lips was a bit wavering, but she was Flora was glad to see it...

"Come on, come on, come to see the great wounded...I'm still in one piece ! It's quite painful, but thanks to our wonderful battle medic, I will come out of it" said Corail...

"Hey, cheer up !.Our charges have learned what happened to you, and have agreed to pay you an extra...within, err, their financial means. The intention is nice, however..."

Flora had in the hands a large basket filled with various fruits, loafs of bread, cheeses, and some sweets. The icing of the cake was gently walking beside her. In a very comical way, she took a huge bit of the "bed" of straw on which Corail was resting (Flora and Singleton had take her after the end of the battle into the first available safe place, in this case a barn used to store wheat and straw. The rich peasant that owned it had been quite happy to let them use it, since the "scorcher" group that the trio had successfully repelled in the past few hours had been preying on the area for some time…

Corail laughed. A goat. They have given her a _goat. _Nice intention, indeed...

"Well, at least we will have something better than what we have been eating recently" said eagerly Singleton when he saw the animal. "If I can make a suggestion, I'm sure that well roasted and stuffed with potatoes and fine herbs, this is going to be delicious and-"

Singleton suggestion was interrupted by a scream. The goat add somehow sensed his intentions, and had bitted him the fingers. He then expressed very clearly his feelings about the animal, in a way that made the two females Humans laugh even more...

"For my part, I would suggest" finally said Flora, "that we just stick to dairy products..."

"Yeah", approved Corail. "Anyway, look how she is cute ! I could never eat her...Well, that said, it's sure that the other foodstuffs we got will be a real improvement from what we have been eating...It's really shows that the monasteries are giving us that food ! Rice, black bread, oatmeal, potatoes pancakes...They are not ruining themselves feeding us..."

"It's when I heard you speaking like that", said Singleton, "that I'm saying to myself that I should have stick to my first idea of taking the family business...There is nothing dumb about raising first grade chicken...It's certainly not very epic, but it's a job like another., no ? You are assured of at least eating each day pretty decent food, which is not bad..."

"The only side problem, said sarcastically Corail, is that your shady past, Singleton, is always catching with you ! Chocobos are really hating you...(It was true that the poor Singleton, maybe for this reason, was quite disliked by most of the Chocobos...) But, heck, I'm sure that although it would be boring to the death, you would be earning much more money on the long run than doing the mercenary trade as a simple ''grunt''...

"Yeah, our mothers were always telling us stuff like that", said in an amused voice Flora.

Corail and Singleton had a startled look...What Flora have said ? _Our mothers ? _

Flora realized what she had said, and closed her eyes, thinking furiously..._Damn. _She was best to say nothing more, and hope that Corail and Singleton forget the matter...

"I simply mean", pursued Flora, "that...she...was saying that, yes, that we would be probably better to not go in the mercenary trade, and do some quiet jobs...Like you Singleton, we did not exactly follow this useful advice, and turned adventurers..."

"..Yeah", added Corail, still thinking about what Flora let slip from her lips. "All that said, however, we really should not complain ! We are badly paid, we eat even worse, we sleep on bunks that are hard as rocks, we are attacked...(Lower...) But we are _free..."_

"And I really doubt that those pyromaniacs of the Inquisition", said Flora in the same low tone, in case of someone was within hearing range (the elderly couple had left some time ago, but in their situation, you could never be too much cautious...) "will ever think to search for us among those people...We will be tomorrow back in Lessaria…."

The last place that the Inquisition would search for finding Heretics was indeed as the escort of a pilgrimage...Especially ordinary peasant pilgrims with so limited means that they were paying mostly in foodstuff. And they were certainly not excepting that the five Heretics that escaped to their wrath were insane enough to come back so soon...

But, in opposition to what many Nobles thought, if you are peasant, you are not always dumb, and a good number of their "charges" were wondering how a group of five first-class mercenaries able repel a brigand attack outnumbering them three to one could be so down own their luck to agree to escort poor peasants, not robbing them in the process, and defending them when attacked (heck, Renard group was against the Church, not about poor pilgrims) Renard had answered evasively to the inevitable questions by tales of them making a vow to escort pilgrims if they escaped a mortal danger...that was minimally credible, at least. Their ''charges'', a group of two dozens persons from a rural community plagued with disastrous rains, were headed for a shrine in Lessaria, to pray for good crops, by offering to Ajora (or rather, to the Church) what they could pay : mostly foodstuffs...Flora was not sure that Ajora was going to make droplets of rains fall from the sky (she was not sure that he did not have the said power, and she was quite sure that he was not benevolent enough to accept to do it...) but this was not hurting anyone to do this...They had met this group two days after their escape from Lessaria, and immediately used this opportunity to come back in the city, resting at night in a place were no one was going to look for them : the monasteries that sheltered (barely) and fed (badly) the pilgrims. The outlaws that attacked the small convoy a few hours ago have been the only incident in this little trip, although the presence of well-armed mercenaries certainly helped the pilgrims to escape unjust extortions ; no one wanted to suddenly raise the rise for crossing a river with a boat when Flora was toying with her bow...

Renard and Saphirre entered the place They had left the pilgrim group a few hours ago, before the attack, for a recon on the proper outskirts of Lessaria, for gathering rumours about the upcoming trial...The recon was without trouble, but really dispiriting...

"Ah, you seem all right, Corail ! I was really worried about you…" (Flora noted with amusement that the cheeks of Corail took a slightly pink tone when she heard that...)

"Yeah, it's just a couple of scratch...But how things are looking, for our friends ?"

"Very bleak. Totally bleak...Let's put it bluntly: impossible. The first ranks banners of the Ivalician Ost have been convoked in Lessaria, and the second rank is raised...The city is filled with troops...We will be probably able to enter, as our faces are pretty much unknown, and exit the city...But attacking the Citadel as a commando will be hard..."

"The _Ost _? The whole Ost ? Delita is gathering the army ? Just for a _trial _? "

"Of course not. It's where that things are funny...In a sense. Delita have ordered the buildup of a fleet-a _huge _fleet. Warships, transports, courrier ships...He is preparing a large scale invasion of Rovannia...The rumours says that his prime target is Taris…"

"_Taris _? It's the heart of Rovannia, but it's a nut that is extremely tough nut to crack..."

"The new gunpowder artillery is surprisingly effective against walls...and there is wild talk about a planned alliance with Muria. Interesting, no ?..It's an invasion that could succeed at first...and end in disaster like the others, after a couple of epic sieges..."

"This hardly a surprise : the relations between Rovannia and Ivalice are at an all time low, and Delita must be tired of all the plots the Rovannians make with the Nobles to gain some positions in Ivalice. But...he is very cautious about his power...Why he is trying something so risky ? If he fails, he is sure of having a major noble uprising in it's back...There must be something that we don't know...Even an alliance with the Murianeses, even if I'm sure they would be very helpful, would not be enough..."

"Although, continued Corail, "I understand perfectly the connection between the trials and the raising of the Ost. It's shows to the Nobles that the Church is really behind Delita...and also what awaits the opponents of the King : the stakes…"

"Exactly. A combination of inner policies and foreign policies...Which will make an eventual failure even more embarrassing, said Renard, trying to look very optimist... It's on Agrias that the attention will be concentrated. Her evasion would be a death blow to the Church...It's also the most heavily guarded prisoner of Lessaria, of course."

"We could try to secure the help of the Oaks said Flora", not sounding optimistic.

"This will never work", said Corail, with a very aggressive tone. "Remember, the Oaks have disowned her during the war, for the sake of "family honour". Really charming fellows. There was one Oaks that was really virtuous and honourable, and it's her..."

Corail was not speaking much about her early life, but from what Renard and Flora have understood, she was born in the Riovannes area, one of the strongholds of the House of Oaks...This could suffice to explain her deep dislike of this particular House.

That said, Corail never had bad feelings against Agrias herself, far from it.

"Maybe we could play", tried Singleton, "on the fear of scandal to secure their help ?"

"The scandal is done, said Renard. The Oaks want her dead. But, trust me, if we manage to save Agrias and her squires, a side-effect will be that the prime suspects will certainly the House of Oaks. I would be lying if I said that this was not pleasing me…"

"And", tried Flora looking with a strange expression at Renard, "you said that a commando operation will be hard...But...what about a larger scale operation, hmmm ?"

For some reason, Renard seemed to understand perfectly what Flora was talking about.

"No...the chances of success are even lower with a larger group...We will do the best we can, alone. Maybe we will have an opportunity to strike during the trial proper..."

"I'm sure that the Oaks will sent some representative to gloat at the trial" replied Flora.

"The worst thing is that I'm sure they will...But speaking of our "dear" friends of the Noblesse, they showed one more time their deep love for us and the little secrets we know about them. I have yet another bad new (Renard looked really worried...)

"The Nobles have unleashed on us the Executors. The Inquisition is protesting with energy about that, as they really want us to be tried. We are not specifically the targets : the orders from the Council of House are just about "kill all the Heretics that escaped Lessaria"...We can only hope the Executors will not search for us in Lessaria...

The Executors...They were the last remain of Ivalice darkest past, from an era in which the arbitrary of the Noblesse was even greater than today. The Nobles always had a shocking attitude to consider themselves as superior to others Humans, but things were even worst in the past, when they considered that justice was their propriety, and that they have full right to use it (of course, usually in a very harsh way...) The Executors, then known as the Judges (as anyone could have guessed, the Judges/Executors were usually quite…quick…with the procedures, the sentencing, and the execution of the said sentence, the whole process could be as short as one hour...) had always be a tool of the Nobles in their control of the population : very numerous were the peasants that have been killed after a simulacrum of justice by a Judge about some taxation matter.

One of the fact that have helped the various Kings and Queens to build central authority against feudal power was that almost everyone that was not Noble greeted with joy the installation of the various Royal Code of Laws, which were far from flawless, but still were a huge improvement from the arbitrary. The hate of the Judges was so great that the Nobles had tried to present them on a better side : in theory, the main function of the Judges was to "keep order" Nobles were quite for "order", especially when this means keeping the peasants under control, and the number of people killed by Judges was staggering, probably on the level of the Inquisition...One of the tool of the judges was an astonishing judiciary theory, the one of that you could execute people for crimes they were _thinking..._.Even the Inquisition have not dared to go so far. Another strategy was to say the Judges were to assure that, during battles, no side had an "unfair" advantage on the other, transgressing an untold ''law of war''

Another thing invented by the Nobles that liked to make warfare, as this was their justification for existence, but that, in secret, valued their own lives...

In an age of constant wars between Nobles, the idea of making sure that battles were somewhat fair was not overly a bad one (Renard and Flora, like in fact almost all the Ivalicians not in the war-liking Noblesse), found however that this would have been a much better idea to try to avoid battles, by diplomacy and mediation.

Renard was incredibly skilled for that kind of action...) But as central authority grew, and feudal wars progressively stopped (the last war in Ivalice, despite what Nobles said, was a _civil _war, not just a war between Nobles fighting for power) this justification could no longer been used, and the Judges dwindled in number, an much cheered event…

There was only a handful of them still in action, and they were probably worst than the first Judges/Executors, whose recruitment had always been quite bad. Only Dukes of the higher rank had at their disposition Executors, which were now "only" executing the sentences pronounced by the Council of Houses against enemies of the Noblesse...One of them was Duke Oaks...In those days, most of the Executors were criminals, that were offered this job when tried in Noble courts : it was that or dead. Most criminals, even the worst ones, took death. Executor was indisputably the _lowest _point you could sink to...The dreaded black helm of the Executors could never be removed (although, of course, the lower part could be move for eating, drinking) making them basically faceless and speechless...They did their ''hunts'' until one of their prey managed to kill them

One "prey" in particular had proven quite resilient in recent history : Miluda...

"Oh, no…" said Flora. "Those guys are completely _mad _! It's the human version of a predator...But at least, we know why they are doing that...It's because we know the truth...We know that they use the Zodiac Legend for control. They are not like the Inquisition...They know too the truth, at least some of them. I don't know if this make them more or less dangerous to us...But...what about Alice and Lavian ? Do you heard about them ?"

Flora, like the others, was of course thinking to all the ''Heretics'' that had been arrested by the Inquisition, but Lavian and Alice were a different case...They had seen the pair going to their certain death, while they could have escaped...

"Well, we heard about them, yes...There are two kind of rumours about them...One is, how to say, the traditional stuff...That they are witches, that they are Heretics, that they murdered Queen Ovelia, you see the pattern here. The others part is...what Alice said to us...I mean, if this is true, it's could be what Alice told us that she had done in Damaskia. Knowing Damaskia, this is...this is very credible. The Inquisition will probably use those facts against them. They cannot hold forever under the Question..."

Flora looked at her surroundings...It was...rustic, sure, but this was a pleasant place. The lands around Lessaria were among the most productive of the world, and for tens of kilometres around the city, it was just small farms and orchards. Despite some outlaws, whose numbers were actually shrinking since the end of the Fifty Years War, this was a much, much better place to be than into a cell...She felt guilty for all the others.


	4. Interlude One

A long time ago, in one of the conflicts following the Great War… 

Twilight was arriving, and like every day, a breeze came from the sea, reaching the docks first, then the whole city. Today, however, no one was really thinking about that…

The city had almost fallen by now, although there was not much prize for the conquerors: it had been destroyed almost completely...The land fortifications had been torn apart by the siege machines during the month-long battle. Today had just been the last assault. It had been very bloody, from both sides, but by sheer numbers, the attackers had pierced the main defence line then moved to exploit their success. The outer and inner wall had been breached. Only pockets of resistance remained. And the survivors of the defenders were looking with awe at the giant forms that were gliding in the skies above them….

Airships. Full units of them. Those ones were mere troop carriers, however, lightly armed. Still, they were fare more than enough to overpower what was left to oppose them.

A panicked officer on the docks ordered his men to take position, to repel the troops that were about to assault the tower guarding the area. They did not listen-they were too busy trying to figure out ways of leaving the area. This was going to be complex: everything that could float on the sea harbour had been sunk, and everything that could fly in the air docks had been mobilized and/or destroyed. They resigned themselves to fight-maybe they would be able to board one ship, and make a "strategic withdrawal…"

One colleague of the officer, with a rather peculiar expression, started to make religious imprecations, talking about the fact that Ajora was going to make them win this war, since they were defending one place most sacred to Him from "the legions of Heretics"

What was "funny" was that the guys _on the other side _were saying exactly the same thing (the main difference was that Ajora was supposed to help them because they were the _real _worshippers : they were about to _save _His holy place from "heathens hordes")

A benevolent God would have been heart-broke to see people fighting on his Name.

But Ajora was anything but benevolent. He was probably gloating over the events now.

One troop carrier came too close of the ground-some defending soldiers managed to attack it successfully, from the ruins of a warehouse, with short range weaponry.

No one understood really what was making the airships fly (apparently, what was going in the envelopes that most vessels used now was extracted from mere water by a kind of magic device emitting a beam, the beam itself named _lektri_ or something like that…anyway, it did not mattered, it was the business of slaves….) but whatever this "magic fluid" was, it was quite volatile. And it burned fast. Accordingly, one of the most efficient weapons against most airships (not against the ones using Relic technology, however) was mere flaming weapons. Like, in the present case, jars filled with naphtha and hurled away, either by a catapult or by human strength. In this situation, the soldiers basically dropped the jars, as the airship was passing below them, trying to avoid the defensive fire coming from the tower. The crews of troop transports was hardly elite…they did not even bothered to check on the rooftops-those warehouses had been emptied a long time ago, and accordingly, they presented rather minimal interest for looting. One jar burst correctly. Liquid flame spilled, burned away a part of the envelope…and the whole ship exploded. The fact that the explosion had destroyed a whole block (including refugees from the city proper, that had fled to the harbour because this part of the city was more or less intact…compared to the rest of the town, at least) was, of course, not important, except in the optic that it was going to be harder for the officers to convince soldiers to go up close and personal against the airships….

One airship down ! Only twelve remaining. For this wave. The officers of the tower gave orders frantically to hold on, while the carriers, who had almost reach the tower, began their attack. The pattern was simple. Land enough troops to overwhelm the defence, and burn everything down. As the dwindling garrison continued to fire small projectiles (bolts, fire pots, stones and the like), the airships basically crashed on the tower, while firing their onboard weapons (catapults, mostly fitted with antipersonnel weaponry. It was very crude, like barrels filled with nails and similar metal pieces, but highly "efficient". Soon, the officers were reduced to make swords strikes against their own soldiers, to push them back to the fight. The main result of this operation was that the said soldiers turned against the officers. The religious officer became…frantic. He carved himself a path, both among his own troopers and the enemy ones…to go where ? He probably did not know it himself. It was probably that he was trying to take down as many foes with him as possible. And this was going to be a lot, since his position was hard to overwhelm-he was defending the flight of stairs that led to the last level of the tower-an enclosed level, were troop could not be landed to flank the officer. Among the troopers that were, understandably not very eagerly, climbing the stairs to engage him, many were muttering that this guy, like many other individuals during the siege, had probably took some "stimulants", like the ones they gave to Battle Beasts-or even worse, Judges. The way the pupils of the guy were dilated was a sign that this hypothesis was not far-fetched.

There was no end in sight for this quite pointless struggle. It did ended, however, when one airship, after bursting a hole in the damaged roof of the last level, dropped at the officer half a dozen fire pots. He became a flaming torch (like the twenty soldiers that were on the staircase with him). Like the whole tower, in fact, whose numerous wooden parts were now flaming. It had been seriously damaged by the siege, by bombardments, and by reckless use of Relic weaponry. For instance, the large gun, destroyed earlier this day, that had been set upon the top of the tower, had not been conceived to work on the top of a relatively fragile tower (or at least, not without hydraulic devices) : as a results, each time it had fired a shell, it had caused major tremors to the whole structure.

Who, thanks to the recent battle, actually collapsed as the airships were still tethered to it. Blocks of masonry against airships tend to have rather nasty results. The collapse of the one hundred meters tower also had a marked shockwave effect. Some vessels that had managed to disengage were caught in a wave of debris, and brought swiftly to the ground.

When things had settled down a little, the survivors, with the few troops they had managed to pick up, tried to head up to the main battle lines: carriers were very vulnerable targets. It did not amounted to much: only two airships limped away from the site, with less than half of their original troop complement. Not for long. They were soon caught in a bigger battle, as one of the remaining airship from the city was trying to oppose itself to one of the bigger units of the attacking fleet. Both ships were fitted with Relics retrieved from various sites. Weapons that were not known for their precision.

One of salvoes touched the first carrier, tearing the envelope. The craft made a sharp three hundred meters dive before ending his course straight on what had been an avenue

The second carrier was caught in the crossfire between the two huge ships. The crew tried to move out the way, but it was too late. The next salvo (ironically from the ship that was on _their _side) devastated the hull, killing most of the crew. Undirected, the airship become a sort of flying bomb, and ended it's course on a monolithic structure that made a sort of artificial hill-the Palace itself was set on the top of this construction.

The Arsenal. The factory that had been cranking out airships for years…for centuries even. The real objective, despite all religious mumbo-jumbo, of the siege. There were countless rewards promised for the ones that would be able to secure it. And there was also the more mundane fact that this place had been able to crank out one airship each two-three days during the siege, which had caused gruelling damaged to the attackers.

The two giant airships that were duelling next to the gates of the Arsenal were easily an hundred meters long, and almost equals in power. Neither commander was in for sophisticated tactics : they basically fired, almost at point blank ranges, volley after volley. The fight would have likely ended by one airship destroyed and the other severely damaged, if the airship from the city had not been recalled to the Palace, thanks to a renewed attack on this bastion. It left the other ship, damaged but still functioning, able to make an attack run on the Arsenal, and maybe even capture it. Short of the Palace itself, the Arsenal was the most heavily defended structure in the city. It had been also the most attacked structure : several defences towers, now marked by ruins, had been established around it. The airship fired one last salvo to destroy the rather makeshift gates (attacked and destroyed several time during the siege), and began it's descent. The term "gate" was misleading. It was rather a sort of cargo door, where built airships left, and raw materials were brought. The Arsenal itself was now a rather haphazard structure. The construction hall itself was a twisting, corkscrewing alley, leading to the workshops, far, far below, where some Relics were still working. Most of the actual warship construction those days rather occurred in levels closers to the surface: it was not unlike a _naval _construction yard, with some salvaged Relics providing the more "sophisticated" gear.

The place was Dante-like. The cavernous hall was quite dark must of the time-slaves don't needed light, after all. Right now, it was ablaze by thousand of fires-fuelled by the ropes, hemp, wood, tar…used for airship construction. And as most of the Relic machines were in metal, and quite sturdy , flaming weapons were really a good thing to use : it killed slaves, slowing down the construction, while keeping the precious infrastructure intact. A whole flight of flying fireships, filled to the brim with inflammable matters, especially naphtha, had been smuggled into the Arsenal earlier today, as the gates were opened for letting out a new warship. The result of the operation had been hard to figure out-the guys manning the fireships had been rather eager to get away. Right now, it's looked like this operation had been a complete success.

The airship continued to descend, firing some salvoes when someone spot some movements-apparently, some slaves were still alive in this hell. The heat was getting unbearable, but if they reached the lower zones and grabbed some precious loot.

The only problem was that this peculiar ship was fitted with some Relic-type propulsion systems in addition to his envelope, giving it added speed. There was slight problems, however, at using technology that you did not understand. Especially, the "technicians" that had fitted this "aydjhi" device on the hull of a conventional airship did not knew at all the concept of _cooling. _They did learned it when the device malfunctioned, thanks to the suffocating heat. This was bad, as this was slowing considerably the airship. What was worse was when the horrified crew realized that the envelope was tearing itself apart (as _thermal dilatation _was not in the Holy Books of the Church, this concept was missing in the rather crude formation that was given to the airship crews. Screams about sabotage by heathens and infidels, and/or sorcery was a not an adequate answer, as well as the numerous threats of executions made by the commander of the vessel).

Finally, the envelope began to give way, as the airship had almost reached the Gates….As the envelope was quickly emptying itself, the crew tried frantically to reach safety, by leaving as they could the Arsenal, and returning their ship to surface.

But the firestorm had yet grown in intensity, because of the attacks of the airship. The hull of the vessel was covered by metal, which prevented it to burn outright. It had also the side effect of making of the vessel a real flying grill. Much of the crew was half dead within minutes. And the machinery was not in a better shape. Still, the crew continued to work, knowing that their lives were in balance. They threw away anything that was not required for keeping the ship in flight, including the precious Relics weapons.

They succeeded at lightening their vessel: the airship reached somehow the surface, in the middle of an ocean of flames. The air capacity of the vessel was quite reduced: with the reduced volume of the envelope, the best the vessel could go was float a few meters above ground. And this was going to be problematic, since they needed forward propulsion t o leave the position. They were not going very fast, but they did moved…The officers began to think about how they would explain this failure….

Just before the engines, badly damaged by their stay in the flames, finally gave up. The airship floated, for a good minute, unmoving, in the middle of the flames that mounted from the gates. After that time, the breach in the envelope burst wider and the airship slowly descended to it's death, the hot air moving upward reducing it's downward speed.

Many soldiers died with the impression that they would awoke on a similar situation….

Five hundred meters lower in the shaft, the hydrogen remaining in the envelope exploded, finally putting an hand to the agony of the crew. Guided by the shaft, the explosion ended in an impressive fireball, clearly visible from the main group of airships, about to launch the final assault on the Palace. One rather naïve junior officer was promptly sent from the observation deck to the command deck, to warn the Warlord about this disaster.

This command airship, carefully maintained out of range of the defences of the city was an rarity. A ship salvaged, more or less completely, for a relic site, and augmented with various technology. Including a huge gun, took from an Ark, that packed astonishing power. The vessel was quite large, dwarfing all others airships, It took to the officer a good five minutes to reach the command deck : the interior of the ship was filled with machinery, whose functions were at best badly understood, and walkways that looked quite primitive had been settled up everywhere, to allow faster access and maintenance. The said maintenance was incredibly crude : basically, the rule was to react only when something stopped (usually in a explosion, or in a small fire) to work, and then try to fix it. Some mechanics had managed, by luck and experience, to learn how to make small genuine repairs, but they were rare, and not especially eager to share their knowledge.

Finally, the junior officer arrived at the command deck, a spacious room located deep within the ship. This was maybe a little cowardly, but it was actually a very rational decision : on the other ships, the bridge/command deck was located in obvious place (like the "castle" on the rear of the vessel), and this attracted enemy fire in remarkable way.

The Warlord listened to the report without saying anything…And then made a slight gesture. He had a policy for similar things. Basically, it was "shoot the messenger"…

As the person he was referring too did not move, or even reacted, he repeated his command, in a much harsher tone. A quite gorgeous female was the one the Warlord was talking to. And she did not look to care much about this command.

The third Human male in the place was calling himself an Archmage-and he was nervous.

Of course, the qualifications of the Archmage and Warlords for their titles were a little dubious, since there was no training schools for this. For the Archmage, he was basically someone that have been lucky enough to gain impressive experience, especially in the darker types of Magic. And the Warlord was someone that have been brutal and merciless enough to raise in the ranks. He was part of those numberless petty warchiefs that turned "King" or "Emperor" when he salvaged some technology from the past, usually from some ruins complex...Or even from a destroyed Ark.. This had been the case of this man, and he was currently one of the most powerful figure on this continent.

This warlord had met some success earlier in his career, and was really on his way to carving up a real empire...or be murdered by one his lieutenant. Or getting blown up because he did not understood at all how really the technology behind his power was working...Anyway, his chances of dying of old age, already low, shrank very significantly when he tried to get for his protection something very, very impressive. Her.

It was a necessity, however. Without a praetorian guard like her, plots and conspiracies would have ended the life of the Warlord much earlier. It was a good deal. Especially considering that the Warlord thought himself smarter than her-which was certainly not the case. He was not dumb, but not terribly bright too. For instance, his plans relied much more on brute force than strategic finesse, this despite the frequent and numerous comments of the Archmage praising the "astounding subtlety" of his boss (which, in addition to the standard advantage of flattery, also allowed him a good part of the _actual _political power in the various zones under the Warlord rule : unlike the Archmage, the Warlord did not understood much about book-keeping, for instance…)

The nervousness of the Archmage increased when the warlord began shouting at the female, finding that she was reacting too slowly. The Archmage saw this outburst with dread. He was sure that he controlled her, but he preferred to follow an obvious rule: don't try to upset her for relatively menial things. Control or not, it was preferable to not do things that would assure him a painful death if this "lady", who was only Human in appearance, found a way to bypass his control. And verbal abuse like what was just a provocation, that risked to anger her-the Warlord was often quite scorning with her.

Fortunately, he had managed to convince the Warlord to NOT push on some of his ideas concerning her, including an quite…close…relation with her. It did not took an expert to realize that she was so disgusted about the Warlord that this was insanely risky.

That said, the reaction of the Warlord concerning his praetorian guard was quite understandable, since the female was quite…troubling, to say the least. Mesmerizing, even. It was hard to find a better example for the expression "pretty to be damned for…."

Since this was, in a sense, true. Since she was no Human, but Demon. A Succubus.

She did not exactly looked like Succubus were supposed to look, according to lore (and for an rather obvious reason, barrack talk or similar type of conversations)

After all, Succubus did not actually seduced Humans by appearing half-naked in front of them, since this would have been a quite crude (but probably working) approach.

They rather did that with promises of raw power. And this girl, who was, according to the Archmage, one of the most powerful of her kind, was certainly offering that.

Without her, the Warlord would have been killed by one of his lieutenant countless times…Her mere presence was far enough to stop conspirators right in their track. The almost daily executions she made for the Warlord were often enough gruesome to convince people to do not even think about trying to kill their "lord and master"

It also have the nice side effect of assuring that the Warlord would not try to execute the Archmage, since he would lose his praetorian guard very fast if he did that…

She was currently absorbed into playing-against herself-a chess game. She had accepted a couple time to play against some people, and she was surprisingly good at this game. However, she was also playing for the showcase effect. The fact that she obviously planned her moves a long time ahead was a not too-subtle indication that she was doing the same thing concerning the Warlord and the Archmage. She had hinted that to them more than a couple of time. The Archmage, for instance, had realized that the officers executed by her were often chosen because she had designated them, in some way…like by looking at them curiously when they were talking with the Warlord. The Warlord had thought that this was meaning more or less "If this idiot can kill the Warlord, I will be free", but the Archmage was sure that she was too subtle for that. It was probable that she had pinpointed the _competent _officers. And this was just a basic strategy. The Archmage was conscious that she was feeding his fear of her, to prevent him to think clearly….

She was dressed relatively conservatively, one more time according to most imageries of Succubus, who apparently valued "clothes" that left very little to imagination.

For mere morphological reasons, she was clothed mostly like one of the Blade Dancers of the kingdom of Muria-this still showed a lot of skin, but was quite decent.. The fact that Blade Dancers were sometimes almost as feared as Succubus was a nice bonus.

On this point, she seemed to have a puzzling reluctances to fight against Murianeses. Both the Warlord and the Archmage, who were not very pious, had nonetheless thought that this was because the "witches" from Muria had made pact with the Demons, like the Galbados Church was saying. (That said, even if, obviously, necromancy and deals with Demons were seen quite badly by the Church of Ajora, many thought that this was a tool like another to use in the fight against the Heathens or Heretics. She had personally played on this dangerous illusion, using this argument-with her charms-to convince the Warlord chaplain to drop his token protests about her presence and her use…)

When she moved her head slightly, both the Warlord and the Archmage saw the only thing that marked her as a Succubus-at least, when she was on this form (short of her black lips, that did not systematically raised suspicion. Despite the fact that the only kiss that was seen as badly as the infamous Germonik's kiss-was the kiss of the Succubus…)

Below her golden hair, there were clear shades of red. And this was of course unrelated to dye. Usually, for a reason that was beyond the Archmage, she tried to hide it. It was quite silly, since _everyone _knew about her status, but apparently, she really enjoyed (in her case, using this word was at best problematic, but still, she was giving this impression) passing up as Human, even as an assassin Human…At the suggestion of the Archmage, the Warlord had wisely chosen to not press on her this very delicate question.

The Warlord, clearly out of patience, repeated his command. The Archmage had no choice-he had to order her to obey him. He was sure that this was intentional : this was to be sure that the Warlord knew that she was obeying (more or less) the Archmage, not him.

And knowing the Warlord, this kind of information was bad for the Archmage health…

Without flinching, but looking utterly bored, she came next to the messenger, and just watched him in the eyes, without doing anything, but playing in her hands with an device that no one, especially the fear-crazed messenger, could see. The results of this little operation were impressive : a minute later, the messenger had slashed himself his throat with his sword rather than face the horrible device that she was about to use on him.

When the body stopped to twitch, the female returned to her chessboard, and placed back the tower piece she had in her hands on the board, resuming her game. (that said, both Humans in the room had few doubts about her capacities to kill with this piece…)

She had not bothered to watch the Warlord a single time, and looked quite unconcerned.

The Warlord had mixed feelings about this praetorian. Sure, she was deadly (and lovely too, which make her useful for adding class to his ceremonies…well, until they degenerated into binge drinking…) but she had never hide the total contempt she had for him, his troops, his goals, despite all his (crude) attempts to awe her with his power.

Because, this was again manipulation. She had realized that the Warlord had a marked taste for killing anyone that did not praise him. Being placed in a situation which he could hardly to this (first point, it was quite hard to actually "kill" a Succubus, second point, if he attempted this, _he _was likely to be the one that would end up dead, and third point, without her, he would have some trouble with his "human resources"….) was irritating him. As she was completely immune to threats, he had been, over the years, more and more outraged by this. How could someone dare to mock him like this ?

She had not pushed the Warlord to try to impress her-he was not dumb at _that _point. But she did manage to make him lose his temper more than a couple of times…and sometimes to undermine the respect the Warlord had with his underlings.

Her goal was really obvious : if the Warlord did something foolish because he was angered, the consequences were going to be _a lot more _dramatic for him than for her.

Right now, the Warlord tried to cool down. The situation was helping him. Despite the loss of this elite airship, they were clearly willing. They just needed the final push…

"The Palace will soon fall", he said at the intention of the Archmage. "With the Arsenal and the Gift of Ajora _I_ will retrieve…_I _will rule all this land…and then…"

This was of course clear megalomania. The Warlord was at best a regional power in Ivalice. His power had grew too fast : he had a fleet, but not economical base to support him, since his conception of economy was mostly "raid and loot". After he took this holy city, it was likely that all Ivalice would side against him, probably with support from Muria and Valencia. Surviving to this, with the lost her supported, was going to be difficult if he kept this kind of streak. The Archmage, who knew this very well, gulped at the idea that _he _was the one that had been insisting on this point…on the suggestion of the Succubus, who has also played with him, saying that pride was the weak point of the Warlord, and a most excellent way of keeping in tow. He had the clear impression that the "master" in this game was not the official one…Especially considering that long range plans are always the best. And that a Succubus had all the time she wanted to plan.

Anyway, she merely looked at the Warlord after he ended his remark, with a smirk that would have been quite appropriate for a mother hearing her five years old child claiming that the mud on his clothes was due to dragons. Meaning, she was clearly amused.

She was intrigued too, however. By the mention "gift of Ajora" :What this could be ?

Anyway, her reaction was not the thing that decided the Warlord, but it did played a role in his decision of finishing the fight in person. If only for awing it's own fleet with a display of the power carried by his flagship…and also to be the first one on place when the looting would start. Especially for securing the most precious stuff…

Moreover, as most of the defences had been reduced…risk was really minimal, now.

The Palace, a relatively recent construction, was an quite ugly mix of styles : it was a local custom that each ruler add a wing to the construction, to mark his reign.

Building costs were of course reduced by using slave work force. That did not helped for architectural continuity, however. That said, the Palace, dubious from an architectural point of view, was quite sturdy from a military point of view, an more important thing.

But most of the emplacements for defensive weaponry had been destroyed, and a good portion of the outer defences taken out :ground troops dropped by airships had made a lost of devastation already, destroying everything they could before being counter-attacked (and often realizing that their promised "lifts" were gone: airships were a lot more valuable than troops) :To this was added the bombardment of airships-and also a lot of airships crashes from both sides, that were often devastating. To the point that the Warlord had sacrificed some of his worse airships to add as kamikaze units.

Right now, the only serious opposition was coming from the remnants of the defence fleet. With the strategy used by the Warlord, however, his own fleet was also in a state that was quite close to the "remnant" category. Only a handful of airships from both sides were still in the air, trading blow without caring about the devastation their weapons brought to the city below them, while the remains of the huge ballista force used by the defenders still fired occasionally. A single projectile, especially if it was enhanced (by Magic or mere fire) could be devastating if it touched the envelope of an airship. "If'" was the key word, since most of the time, airships were well out of range and could move, while the batteries were immobile. Still, despite the systematic destruction of all batteries, there was always some that survived and managed to get lucky shots. As the flagship was making his descent for the final assault, another elite airship was hit, and exploded.

This siege was going to be costly...The "art" of making airships was being slowly lost. This city had still the Arsenal, and was able to produce new airships…But the place had been quite devastated-and moreover, no one knew exactly in those days the laws that make ships fly. The envelopes were a crude way to replace the devices that made things weightless-as those devices were quite crude compared to the mythical Arks. And yet, this technology was on the verge on being lost too: the death of the workforce in the Arsenal, the destruction of machinery, would only accelerate the processes.

This "waste" was nothing, however, compared to the loss of Human lives.

This day, there was, maybe several thousands of Humans that died per hour, and neither side had cared much about those casualties. For the military ones, well, this was a necessity. For the civilians, this was either the cost of being defeated, or the price to paid to _avoid _being defeated-which was not exactly a consolation to the ones being killed..

The gates of the Palace were besieged…by refuges from the city, pursued by ground troops. The said doors, unsurprisingly, remained close (to be honest, this was a sort of no-win situation : if the door had _been _opened, the enemy would have entered in the Palace).

The crow dispersed immediately, probably with screams of panic, as they saw the flagship approaching. The Warlord, who enjoyed a safe view of the situation thanks to a large-size periscope, was quite pleased by this sight. His vessel had often this effect.

And yet, this airship was a toy compared to the _Leviathan _of the Great War. And the _Leviathan _itself was less than a toy when compared to the Ark where the main weapon of this vessel had been retrieved. And, thought the Succubus, this was even worse when seeing a real Ark in action. Like herself, a long time, when she was still….

She frowned at the thought…she disliked, she hated how her memories were fading, despite her desperate efforts to keep them. For instance, this memory of the Arks…she knew she had it once, she knew this was important….but she did not recall anything else.

This almost made her miss the event she had been working for during years…

The Warlord turned white, and let out a gulp of surprise when he saw some towers collapsing on the Palace. Those towers had been recently erected-just before the siege-and were in wood, probably for preventing airships to land troops directly on the roof of the Palace proper. This was rather a cover for a last ditch defence, especially made for the final assault. Knowing well the tactics of the Warlord, the ruler had massed there before the siege around an _half-hundred of ballista _: a fake roof had been built on them, this covered by the construction of the defence towers. At this was in wood, it only took some minutes to destroy it, and uncover the ballista force. Basically, the ruler just hoped that he would be able to take down with him his foe and his flagship, when he would come to gloat over the downfall. This honourable end (according to him), would pass in history, and would maybe help to forgot some less glorious aspects of his life. The fact that this number of ballista, with the best crew (completely unused during the siege, despite the needs) would have been much more useful in the city proper was of course not considered: the ruler's honour was much more important than the lives of commoners.

Despite the frantic orders to fire at will on this force, the ballista unleashed one full concentrated volley at the airship, aiming specifically at the various "aydjhi" devices propelling it. In some cases, the hull hold…but in others, it was pierced by the mithril tipped bolts. It made explode the devices. And it also caused secondary explosions.

Such explosions rocked the airships, making debris fall from everywhere. Including in the command room. A sizable piece of the roof collapsed on the Archmage, seriously wounding him. He did had the time, however, before dying, to see "his" Succubus watch him, smiling in a terrifying manner, as she was making a "check-mate" on her game.

As soon as the Archmage was dead, the Succubus stretched herself like she had slept a long time, yawning even, all this while being in a far better mood than all those years.

This rather incongruous reaction turned the attention of the Warlord toward her. He was already pale from the shock of the attack. He had grew even paler thanks to the fact that his ship, the core of his power, was probably doomed. This was nothing compared to the colour his face took when he realized than the Archmage was dead…

She was going recall for a long time the look the Warlord had when he realized that the controlling spell was no more, and that she was _free._ Of killing him, of course.

Physically, the Warlord was not a coward. In a situation that he could handle ("straight" one on one fights) he feared nothing. He knew that his chances against her were hopeless. But he also knew that flight was impossible, and that crawling at her feet would just make her laugh. He tried to fight. Tried. With the same grace and deadly skill she had showcased against assassins and conspirators, she disarmed him quite easily.

It was only when she pinned him on the floor, that he tried to plead for pity…

"Gee, I really don't know…You did pretty mean things to me, during those years. Like the time you said, remember, that for the price you paid the Archmage for me, you could at least use me "like you wished ? I must say that it made me quite, quite angry…"

She actually licked her lips while saying this. This would have already be a bad sign concerning an Human in this situation, but with a Succubus, this was very, very bad…

And she _was _angry, even for a Demon : she showed it quite clearly in the next minutes, reducing the Warlord to a broken shell quickly. The only thing lacking was the finish.

"Now, I'm going to give you a nice goodbye kiss, Warlord…."

The last thing the Warlord saw, while screaming, was the black lips of the Succubus….

This thing done, the Succubus was a little disappointed. Too quick. Especially for the Archmage…That said, the vessel was going down. The life of the Warlord life could hardly have lasted more than an quarter hour, as the airship would have crash or exploded at this point. So, concretely, she only shortened it by a mere five minutes. Not much, unfortunately. But those ten minutes were certainly _very _painful for the Warlord…

It also disturbed a part of her, a small part, that she cared a lot about, to think that she had…liked…so much to torture him, even if he was a monster. This thought just made her even more hostile about the others Humans she was about to encounter…

At least, she made sure that he actually realized how much it was dangerous to deal with her kind. The Warlord would probably remember this lesson for some centuries in Pandemonium. And, well, the Archmage would certainly pay for this too…

She took the next few minutes to kill some crew members of the airship, before the vessel crashed, and thus deprived her of her fun. Most of them, when they saw her, preferred to jump to their deaths rather than face her-annoying. It's only when the flagship was about to crash itself on the roof of the Palace that she left the doomed craft. An Human being could have survived without trouble the twenty meters fall. But not the explosion that followed when the flagship hit and destroyed the ballista force, a few seconds later. It did not even caused her scratches. Using as landing points the various stones blocks jutting of the palace walls thanks to the recent destruction, she began jumping down toward the street, thinking both about what had happened and what she would do now…

The Archmage had managed to get a hold on her something like ten, twelve years ago, she was not sure. It was nothing more than an eye blink for her, and well, she found that, in a sense, it had somehow worth it. But her train of thought was interrupted.

Another airship crashed next to the Palace, seriously damaging it's already weakened structure, and starting a major fire. She hoped that the local tyrant had not been killed on the spot...if he was trapped, she would be able to pay him a nice visit. He would probably like the others. Humans were always the same : she had seen them for so much time.

She was seeing all of this destruction with...philosophy. She had seen civilizations collapsing at least...hmm, two times or three time ? It was getting confusing, since it always involved pretty much the same thing (general wars, false religions, plagues) Humanity had managed to avoid falling in chaos during the Great War...An impressive feat, she had to admit. But, as she had thought, it had not lasted. Now, Humans were killing themselves all in the name of Ajora. A rather amusing turn of events.

Oh, they would rebuild their civilization...one more time. And then lose it again, at the next conflict.. Each one was deadlier than the precedent. Each one knocked down the technological level another notch down. And there was always enough technology retrieved to be used as weapons of war, to kill more Humans. Also, religion was such a neat thing for erasing the past…Despite the sincere efforts of the Church to keep knowledge, much writings had already being destroyed as being the works of Heretics.

This chaotic situation guaranteed that she would always find interesting work…

In those years in the service of the Archmage, she had unfortunately to kill some innocent humans, but she had also the chance of killing countess rivals of the Archmage or of the Warlord. Individuals that she really enjoyed killing, who certainly deserved this.

"Some" was however a highly subjective term. What she considered as some could have been found by many as countless. But she was not much troubled by this. She had lost the count of her kills, and for her, all Humans were pretty much the same in the end.

For the time being, she amused herself by dispatching soldiers she found on the wrecked streets of the city, not caring about the sides. On this point, she was somewhat right, as neither side was really better than the other, even from the Human point of view.

Her presence was noticed rather quickly by the soldiers, as well as the ease she was killing her foes. Accordingly, an assault party unleashed something to deal with her.

She looked with some curiosity as it was approaching...Not fearing it at all.

This creature was a sort of battle beast...More exactly, this "beast" had once been an Banga, a sentient being mostly known by the name "lizard-man"...What remained of his people had been enslaved by magic spells, and transformed by an even more powerful force (probably coming from one of the Craddles) it was now a very different thing, deprived of sentience...Instead of a mostly humanoid-shaped being (with impressive strength compared to an Human) the living weapon was now an hulking creature, towering at five meters above the streets levels, carrying a sort of crude double flail. It was barely controllable in battle, but this point was not important for his handlers.

Smiling, she revealed herself, for the fear effect.. With a mix of surprise and terror, the soldiers saw two black wings "grew" from her back. If this encounter proved difficult, which was unlikely, she had also access to other possibilities...She did prefer, however, to stick to Human like appearance, which was after all her true appearance.

Because, when she was in a...clearly not Human-like form, it made her memories fade even faster. She had so few remaining...she had no desire to lose them.

To the great unease of the soldiers, she dispatched in _two _minutes the creature, who did not managed to even wound her...She did more than dispose of the living war machine…She turned it against it's handlers. (Piece of cake for her…The creature was more afraid of her than his handlers, despite all the pain they inflicted to him…)

Results concerning the handlers were both unsurprising and gruesome…. The beast turned to rampage, attacking everything in sight. She saw it with a certain amusement.

After all, both sides were real monsters (psychologically, not physically), even when compared to her, just caring about looting, pillage, torture...And far worse.

She had a very clear sign of it with a scene she saw near the devastated Gates of the Arsenal. There was girl, clearly below ten, crying, pleading a drunken soldier (judging by the uniform, he was _technically _on the side _supposed _to protect the civilian. This alone said a lot about the morality of the various armies...) to let her alone, or to just kill her.

What had happened to her did not require much explanation, judging by her state, the conditions of her clothes, the comments the guard was making….And, to add to the horror…this was likely not the...first time. There were two others soldiers nearby. They were also drunk and they were laughing in a sick manner at the efforts of the girl.

The three soldiers were startled by the arrival of the newcomer. They realized at once who she was...That for that kind of enemy, no mercy or pity was possible…Still, they all dropped to their knees, imploring her mercy. She really took her time to kill them. What a misfortune that they were drunk ; this probably soaked some of the pain.

When the last one had fallen, she kneeled near the human girl, who was now sitting in a corner of the ruined house were those events had just occurred, in deep shock, and done something that was really out of place with her appearance: blood covered, not mentioning her wings, that was making as clear as possible that she was not Human...

As kindly as possible, she helped the girl to rose, and did her best to tend her numerous wounds. Of course, the worst one could never been healed, as it was something much more than just physical...Those bastards had really get out of this mess too fast.

In fact, even if she had took a _day _to kill each of them, that would still not have been enough ...Like all the ones of her kind, she did not cared much for Humans males, more or less hating all of them. But it was not true for _female _Humans.

After all, she had been herself an Human girl, long ago. And despite her dwindling memories, this past was precious to her. How could she let one of her Human "sisters" (or a Vieran sister, for that matter), especially an so young child, be harmed ?

"Hey", she said after a moment. "You will be all right. They are all dead..."

Of course, this well-meaning comment was not terribly helpful for the poor girl. She was too shocked (the fact of being saved by an Succubus, despite her kindness was certainly not helping) It's only after a while that she asked feebly "why you helped me…?"

Before the other could thought about a answer that could be adequate, the girl saw that no answer was coming, and decided to give up this question, who was not critical. What really mattered was, after all, that this "lady" had helped her, despite…her nature.

"Ah, I don't care why you helped me...(Pause)You came with the airships ?"

The other female answered yes, while excusing herself for it (she was not sincere on this point, of course. She just thought that some excuses would help the situation)

"It's not that I really care, you know, about that...You could have burned the whole city, and it would have hardly mattered for me. This...is not my town...I was a slave...they were working me to the death into one of their airships component plants..."

The other one was saying nothing, recalling something from a very blurred past...One Human female, around seven years old, with the same haunted look that than the girl (for different reasons, but...with the same desperation, feeling of being powerless) It was her, partly reflected through some kind of window. What was beyond the window...it was silly, but she was no longer recalling the images. She just recalled three words, that were explaining everything she had saw, so long time ago: Daymio...Home...Destroyed...

The...change...had happened years later, years of cold, hunger, and raw desperation, but it was this day that she had decided from the depths of her soul that the ones that helped that to happen, and their eventual future followers, should really, really, be punished for what they had dared to do, whatever the price...This similarity was very dangerous.

"Miss...Could I follow you, please ? I have really nowhere to go...I will help you..."

"Follow...me ? I...don't think you realize exactly what this involve-What's your name ?"

"Lede. My name is Lede, miss. Please...I want...to go with you, miss. I beg you."

"And you can call me Celia. Look, Lede, you can come with me...out of this town. I'm sure that you will find some family ready to take care of you...(Lede looked not convinced) If not, I...I will explain some things to you about me, and you will see...that you should do others things than ''following'' my steps in the broad sense of the word."

Celia knew what she should have done, for the sake of Lede.To slap her, for looking odious to her. Do something. Anything...would be better for Lede than follow her steps, into darkness. But...Lede really needed some help, for the time being. Saving her from an immediate danger, and then letting her down, would have been very useless. She was more or less aware that all of this was nothing more than a justification...

Celia had been so alone, so...frightened...when she had...had _died_...Maybe if Lede wanted to follow this path, it's would be easier, less painful for her, with Celia's support...

A few hours later, both female had find a place to rest a little, as dusk was settling on the city. They had a rather scenic view…according to Celia, at least. Lede was still too shocked to think about this. If in normal times, the view would have indeed quite impressive, right now, it was rather an endless sea of devastation :fighting had died down throughout the city, after the destruction of the flagship. Most of the attackers had stopped to attack, mostly to determine what to do, and most defenders had exploited the confusion to begin a major withdrawal, abandoning the city altogether.

Lede and Celia were currently in one of the most luxurious bathing rooms of the Palace (the "scenic view" was mostly due to a gaping hole on the eastern wall…) The complex itself was littered with wrecks of airships and various ground weaponry, but this room had been remarkably untouched. There was also bodies littered everywhere, thanks to a struggle that had broken out in the Royal Guard. Apparently, the king had tried to flee after a revolt had broke out. The remnants of his forces had battles each other for various new puppet rulers, and tried to secure the treasure vaults, which were underground. There was just stragglers left in the Palace-and those who were still in the hallways, looters or others, met premature ends, thanks to Celia. Or they just fled, spreading tales about legions of Demons lurking in the Palace, which had the same results :empty the place.

But why Celia had head back to the Palace ? It was mostly because it was the only more or less intact building in the whole town. Celia was honestly quite lost about what to do with Lede (help her, yes, but _how _? She could hardly take her at her own "home"). It was probably better to gain some breathing space to think about it carefully. Accordingly, find a relatively safe place for Lede. As Celia had capacities to make _any _building very empty, very fast, unless faced by groups of top level opponents (which was the case now), she could afford to chose virtually any place of her liking….She had figured that Lede would maybe like more something luxuous than slave quarters…

On this point, judging by some of ramblings he uttered, she and Lede had crossed the path of the king-or someone pretending he was the king. Anyway, someone had broken his legs with a mace, and let him die there, abandoned by everyone. Celia had found this idea quite interesting, and had carefully ignored all the pleas of the individual to at least finish him. As Celia had returned to her wingless appearance, he probably did not know who she was. But he did spot the infamous red scar on Lede right cheek (a slave mark, made on purpose) and could not, even in this situation, bring himself to not scream in outrage about what a slave was doing here, on the Palace-much worse than the surface.

According to most legends, Celia and her kind were temptation incarnated. Well, this was true, but she had to fight this herself, to not kill this tyrant on the spot. She "simply" broke his wrists too, and left him screaming. (Celia actually wondered for a while about why Lede had become so pale, before realizing, with genuine horror, that despite all her efforts to keep a Human behaviour, there were things she had trouble with….)

Anyway, they have found this room soon after, and there was no other incidents.

Seriously, Celia thought that she was handling the situation rather well. She had defined the right priorities. Find a shelter, a bath, new clothes, and then food.

All of this was for Lede, of course, as Celia did not require similar things: accordingly, those very basic needs were somewhat alien to her-for instance, she _did _eat Human food-if only for the sake of trying to act as Human, but she did not required it to…"live".

Well, for the bathing part, it was not sure that it was just for Lede, as this was a treat for her too. She preferred to maintain a neat appearance-both for impress her enemies, and because Human girls are not usually blood covered. (A small thing again….)

As for Lede…well, this was an absolute necessity for her, with what had happened to her.

Understandably, it had taken a lot of persuasion to Celia to convince Lede to let down the tattered remnants of her clothes-she was holding them like her life depended on it. It's only when Celia had done it for herself, sliding in the hot water and saying to Lede that she would like it, that this was a delight, that the girl had accepted to do it.

(A more direct way would have been to threaten Lede, but Celia…could not do that. She was willing to _hep _this girl, not to push her back into the submissive model..)

The fact that Celia was very, very obviously female visibly calmed down her a little.

Wisely, Celia had not said a word for a good while, to try to put Lede a little more to her ease (if she was aware that Lede had just survived an horribly traumatizing experience, she had not realized that, frankly, seeing corpse after corpse-and often killings-was not exactly soothing too. On the other hand, Lede was pleased, in a way, to be with her)

"By the way, I did not even know how this place named….Do you know ?"

(Celia _did _know, very well, thanks to numerous briefings of the Warlord…She was saying this to say something, to start a conversation. And also, try to make Lede a little more talkative, -she did realize the girl was afraid, with reason. She had noticed it while working with Humans: nothing make someone talk more than the possibility of displaying his knowledge…Lede hesitated, then decided to answer)

"It's the Holy City of Murond, miss….They say it's the birth place of Ajora…"

Celia, as she had planned, decided to use this as a starting point for something….

"Ajora, ah….You ever heard of the expression "the kiss of Germonik?"

"….It's the time when Germonik tried to kill Ajora. She kissed him, and tried to stab-"

"Exactly. As this is close to the perception of what we do, it's had been implied that Germonik was either one of us, or became one of us after "her treacherous deed…."

This was very unlikely, since, if Celia recalled correctly, it was _extremely _improbable that Germonik, the poor girl, (her name had been completely massacred, moreover) had ended up at…."home". Mostly because what she was doing was the right thing, after all.

Not what she was doing….what she had succeeded to do, even indirectly.

And there was also the issue about the possibility for Germonik to be damned firsthand, since it was not sure that she met, how to say, some of the conditions required for….

What the heck, Germonik have died as a Human. She was certainly Human in a way!

Celia had not met Germonik herself-she regretted it, Humans doing things like her were….were the sort of model she had hoped to attain when she was herself Human.

It was fortunate, however, that she had not met her. Since she have been summoned, as well as many of her kind, _by Ajora, _to kill Germonik by whatever means available.

Apparently, Ajora had kinda made a fixation on Germonik. The classic love hate thing. That probably worsened with his death. He blamed solely Germonik for it, claiming her mysterious powers (let's rather call it her brain and writing skills…). Celia had a pretty good idea, how (sarcastically), this self explanation could look like

_I have not been defeated by a mere girl (who humanity, physically, speaking, is somewhat questionable, but certainly not on a more philosophical point of view) who I betrayed, used, tried to kill and who paid me back, by outsmarting me completely _

_I have been defeated by a divinely assisted being (which is at odds a little with my conceptions but…)! Only HER could defeat me ! I'm in fact invincible !_

What was the next step? That only the ones blessed by Germonik could defeat him? (In fact, it was likely that Ajora would point out _anyone _able to hurt him as "blessed", "gifted", or even "born from" Germonik, thanks to his insanity…)

Anyway, short of those pseudo-theological reflections, she had something to settle…

"As you might guess, I'm not raising this…like this, for fun, Lede"

Celia saw with sorrow that this made Lede very nervous: she did not know what to except. Celia made a mental note to try to find a way to talk more directly, frankly.

"Don't be afraid", she continued, as she swam/walked closer to the point where Lede was-they were previously sat on opposite ends of the basin. Lede did not move, but it was rather thanks to pure fear than because of the dubious social skills of Celia.

She picked in her hands Lede's head, and moved until her head was very close of Lede…

"What I wanted to say was that…well, you know, "Germonik's Kiss" and "kiss of the Succubus" are rather equivalent expression, right ? But it's not always what you thought".

Celia had tried to not surprise Lede-and to her credit, she succeeded. Lede knew what to except. She was not really surprised when Celia gently kissed her on the cheek…

But Lede _was _astonished when she did not ended up death after this. She understood even less when a smiling Celia made her move her own hand to touch her _right _cheek.

It's at this time that she realized that the slave mark was gone…Disappeared.

Celia really hoped that her explanation, which _was _accurate, would cover up nicely for the fact that Lede had been helped by Demoniac Magic of great power. And especially that Lede would not talk about it. She was in for _major _troubles with Humans if they ever learned it. How could someone believe that a girl below ten managed to convince a Demon to use such a powerful regeneration spell-basically akin to eternal youth-when people doing in the Dark Arts could spend years pleading, dealing, without ever getting results ?(Celia recalled that an old geezer, finally dying off, at the delight of his subjects, had promised her all the gold she wanted, the lives of anyone on his land, that kind of stupid stuff, if she gave him one more year. She basically made him go desperate, then told him that he could sc… himself up) She had _given _this to Lede. There would be no pact, no consequence for her-this was just for help her start a new life…

But she really felt somewhat heartbroken when Lede began to cry-for the first time since Celia had killed the soldiers. This was really too much for the poor girl.

Lede, however, was very, very grateful for Celia-without this mark, no one could treat her like an animal, like all those years…They had always told her that whatever she did, even if she escaped, people would know, just by looking at her, that she was just a slave, that nothing would remove this mark.. And that even after she died, her soul would still be marked, and Ajora would know and scorn her too. And that she was not humble (traduction: submissive…) enough, she would rot in Hell for all eternity.

On this point, the Church, which was surprisingly sincere in her efforts to promote a more humane, just, righteous, civilization was however adamant. Slavery was a mortal sin for the _slavers: _all Humans were the same in His eyes (this was an admirable view, both from a theological viewpoint and a secular one, and certainly a view to be promoted. But this was not coming from Ajora, not from an false god…) But not surprisingly, the rich and powerful kept of the teachings of the Galbados Church what they considered useful. Still, slavery _was _in recession, and the Church still worked on her social agenda.

It would have been an outright lie to say that this Church was an "evil" organization…

"Thank you, miss" finally managed to say Lede. "I knew they were lying, about Ajora"

Celia realized she had made a _major _mistake by talking about Ajora…Being an Heretic on this wretched world was an extremely bad thing. She tried to switch subjects as fast as possible, to remove the thought from Lede's mind. But Celia was troubled too.

Just because Lede was showing gratitude toward her. This was unusual. But pleasant.

"You know", said Celia a little uneasy, you could kill me otherwise than "miss"….

Miss" was certainly a vast improvement over the names she had been called over the years (bi…, wh…, demon, and often the three mixed together) but Celia was nicer.

"Now", continued Celia as Lede was nodding, "there is the issue of the clothes…."

She motioned at Lede a pile of clothes of her size, that she had "liberated" earlier in the Palace-Celia _did _realized that their was _others _children then Lede in this city…but it was only Lede that she had met. Correction. Lede was the only child she found _alive._

"Dry yourself, and pick anything you like. Something comfortable-we will stay here for the night, then move for a more…civilized…era. To find you something…"

"Celia…I want to stay with you. It's possible You were Human. I could become-"

"Lede, I would _love_ that. But I think you don't understand that to be with me, you.."

"Of course I know that. I need to be dead….", said Lede, with a tense voice, but not showing much fear. She even smiled a little, as she was choosing her clothes…

Celia did not pushed the conversation, really hoping that this was meaning that Lede did not knew exactly the difference between life and death….while knowing very well, deep down, that _she did, _and that she had been serious. Better try to chase such ideas…like for instance, making to Lede a gift. A real gift. Not something stolen or liberated.

And as many things could happen, it was preferable to give her an useful gift too…

After she had put her own clothes backs, Celia saw that Lede had picked relatively plain clothes, that were still vastly superior to the rags she had been given all her life…

"You look very pretty into this", said sincerely Celia. "And now, I have the crowning piece…". As she was saying this, Celia moved her hands over her head, and pulled out from her hair an sumptuous hairpin-she had two of those. She put it into Lede's hair.

Celia had gave this to her as a…precaution. It could help Lede a lot if things turned out badly-those were very dangerous time, and she could not protect her forever…

By herself, this hairpin would have tremendous value: exquisite artwork, not to mention certain abilities of protection, that would be handy to anyone in those dark times.

It had also the advantage of being a very clear sign : anyone from Celia's "side" seeing Lede with this hairpin would know that she was an "off limit" target. There was power struggles, back "home", but even for her kind, there was certain things that could not be done. Things like killing girls that received such "gifts". Sure Lede did not presented the…typical profile…of such girls, but there had been others in her case, over the time.

The restriction also worked for, how to say…the other side too.

Lede had no ideas of her value. She just thought it was a neat gift. If she had not just lived such horrors, she would have probably giggled about it. She just smiled-a somewhat normal smile, for one time. Celia found that this far enough. After carefully arranging Lede's hair (that was unfortunately rather short, thanks to her previous life), Celia led her back in the hallways, toward the kitchen, for find her something to eat.

The King was still there, and still not death. He moaned something incoherent as Celia was passing by. She glanced at him, and he promptly shut up….

The kitchens were not far, and where well-supplied. Lede had never saw so much food in all her life, and it was not hard to convince her to "take something". Celia took an orange for herself, eating token parts of it-just for the sake of pretending to be eating with Lede.

Why the heck she had picked up an _orange, _of all things ? Maybe she had enjoyed it when she was Human, but there was something else, she was sure of it. Bah.

If she had thought about food, it was mostly because of herself. Dying of hunger was a terrible experience : she knew it very well. And Lede was so thin that she had been obviously very close of dying. Celia did not know about the conditions of the slaves in Murond, but they were likely awful, since, with Murond power, slaves were not in short supply. And major supplies means that "losses" were very easy to replace.

For instance, what had happened to Lede, after she had managed to crawl out, half-dead, from the Arsenal, and hide in town…it was very likely that she would have been killed as soon as the guards would have finished with her. No one bothered to make enquiries about dead slaves: it was just a waste of money, as it was cheaper to get new ones.

"You told me that you _were _a slave. Just one question…how you ended like that?

"I…they sold me. I think I was five or six…(She looked distressed…_more _distressed than usually) I think it was for ten copper pieces. I saw them paying. Ten tiny pieces…

The reason she was distressed was obvious. According to this, the silver fork she was using worth far more than her. Lede had always saw herself (not, of course, just because of this) as a pretty worthless thing: her dreadful life to this point was not helping.

"Okay, but _who _sold you ? A slaver? (This was for…visiting…the fellow…a day)

"…It was my own parents, said after a long pause Lede, who closed her eyes…

Celia made a mental note to ask later to Lede where she was born exactly. It would be nice to pay to those folks a little visit, and let them know that their daughter was not judged worthless by everyone. If they had not been already killed. In this case, maybe she could ask someone at…home…to give them, how to see, VIP treatment ?

"And they say that I am a monster…" was the only reply of Celia….

Celia _did _tried to chat a little with Lede, but the array of possible conversations was very limited. Neither Celia and Lede had much experience with _social _interaction in general.

After a while of such kind of conversation, Celia began to hear a sort of rumbling noise. Another attack starting? Did they really want to die at her hands?

She also began to hear screams, coming from the ruins of the harbour, where most airships had docked, to make repairs. Scream of fear. Panic. Like the ones of the civilians earlier. A little worried, she lifted from her chair, and bolted to the next available viewpoint, Lede following her closely. Both the Human and the Succubus were shocked by what the saw. In front of them, a hill was blocking the view. Pretty normal.

Except that this hill was not here ten minutes ago! And that it was moving! It was not a wave…it was a wall of water! That would do even more damage than the siege…

From their commanding viewpoint, thanks to the fires, they saw in details what was happening. Especially a scene that could have been depicted as "the destruction of the remnants of the Warlord fleet". Caught on ground, the ships were doomed…

The tidal wave advanced like a wall of destruction. One quick-minded captain had managed to put his ship almost on the air before the water swept him away. He almost got away. Almost. The hull was neatly cut up in two, like the airship had been a toy. Celia and Lede thought they heard the scream of the crew, but this probably a kind of illusion. What was not in illusion was that the wave would be there in minutes!

"The dykes….the stragglers from the defensive army have destroyed the dykes…."

Lede muttered that, now sure that (finally?) she was going to die. She was right about her interpretation : officer had indeed decided to deny Murond to it's conquerors…

Indeed, Murond was located close to the sea. Much too close.

The original city had been built on a hilltop, commanding one of the finest harbours in Ivalice, but like most Human cities, it had been hit pretty hard during the Dark Ages-to the point that the carefully planned and maintained dams keeping away a nearby river were destroyed. In addition to the floods, the water ate away in a couple of centuries the hill herself. Slow destruction, that left time. The site was too good for trade. The place was rebuilt slightly away from the original site…on low lands. Quite careless planning, especially considering that the whole peninsula on which Murond was located was almost cleaned up of trees for this rebuilding (the new style was massive stone, for sure, but wood was requiring for construction anyway). The unsurprising result was massive erosion, that was opposed by the building of dykes, raised each century…as, meanwhile, the city was sinking slowly, the sheer weight of it being too much for the weakened ground…Whole parts of the city were sealed off as they were built on. The dreaded slave quarters, where Lede had been most of her "life". As the Warlord had the "brilliant" idea of attempting an assault using this underground "hell" (for an obvious reason, Celia had smiled when hearing that…) there had been airships battles there, in the Old Murond, that had been extremely costly: both Muronds were now covered with airships wrecks…

Since there was _two _Muronds : the new, holy city…and what was below. The ruins of the old city. Moreover, no one managed to guess that there was _several _others _"_Murond" in this worldas the root of the name was not Human, but _VIERAN _. Perfect translation of the original word was delicate, as Vierans concepts were not Humans ones, but this could be summed up as "Place of the Exiled"-or mores simply, "City". Vierans were quite puzzled by the Human tendency to live in huge agglomerations : originally, they did not even had a WORD for "city". Anyway, the name, or rather the core/root of it had survived in many places, usually with some deformations (like the independent kingdom of _Muria_, or the _Miriam _Ruins, of sinister Great War fame…)

For returning to the present situation, it was only thanks to it's status as an holy city (and the arsenal) that Murond was still inhabited. Well. _Had been inhabited_ was more accurate.

There was no time to lose. Taking Lede by the hand, Celia raced for the roof of the palace. On her way, she crossed one last time the king. She hoped he would ask for water, which would have allowed her to deliver a snappy and appropriate answer, but, alas, he was delirious. She and Lede arrived on the roof when the wave began to hit it…

The Palace was not _directly _drowned by the tidal wave, but the water carried numerous debris, that acted like hundreds of rams. It would collapse very soon…"

"Lede !" said Celia. "Hold me very, very tight, and _don't look. DON'T LOOK."_

"You are going to kill me, right ?" replied after a while Lede

Celia was so hurt by the accusation that she did not know what to answer first…

"…No…I was thinking more about vertigo, and the like…"

A puzzled Lede, who had however closed her eyes, heard a noise similar like a cape deploying, and…and did not know what to do after that, since things happened rather fast. She felt being carried away quite quickly, wind swirling next to her…

Celia had waited really to the last minute : the Palace collapsed under her…

Celia, Lede tucked in her arms, hoping that the Human girl was _actually _not looking (the poor Celia, not unlike many well-meaning Human females with no experience concerning children, was painfully unaware that saying to a kid, even one with a very messed life, to _don't look _was the best way to be sure that she would indeed _look_) was not overly worried concerning herself. Water could not kill her. However, she was maybe not Human, but there was limit to what she could do. For instance, she could not fly extensively while carrying weight, even if Lede was terribly thin. Accordingly, she was rather close to the "ground" that was turning more and more liquid. The numerous survivors-rather, _current _survivors had a nice vision of things to come for them…

After gliding from the palace, Celia landed, foot first, on an airship that had become a…ship, at least for the time being. It was sinking rapidly, pierced in dozens of place. Amazingly, a couple of soldiers thought to attack Celia-an extremely foolish action. She put Lede on the deck, and looked at them, stretching casually her shoulders-which had the effect to deploy her wings to their full size-a very neat trick to impress Humans….

Short of muttering "Daemons…., there was not much they could do about it. There was of course the possibility of asking for a...higher…intervention, but this was unlikely.

Those individuals had destroyed, burned, looted, killed. What kind of _actual _higher power could approve such actions ? Although, well, that was probably not out of character for Ajora (who was however not very helpful AND was not an actual God….)

The Human soldiers, anyway, had frozen in place while she smiled at them. She exploited the occasion. She viciously kicked one of them in the raging sea, and slapped the other with such strength that he was knocked back several meters. This gave a clear indication to the others to don't interfere. The prow of the airship was steadily sliding into water-as a result, the rear section of the craft was rising right now. Celia planned to use this for the next step of her…flight, indeed, from Murond. It's also gave her a rather interesting look at Human nature as it's lowest. Officers drowning because of the loot they carried….soldiers fighting each other for a place on a plank….

Charming society…She was less and less sure that she would be able to find a safe place for Lede. (Well, not until things settled down a little. In times of relative peace, Human societies were quite decent places-Celia actually cried when she recalled her own youth)

The deck of the airship was already clearly inclined when Celia had landed on it. It was now on the process of switching to a vertical position. Slightly annoyed at the idea that she would not be able to deal with the soldiers on board, she made a run for it, using it to gain an height advantage. She proceeded that way, using as "stepping stones" buildings more or less in one piece, until she finally reached solid ground, more than ten kilometres away from Murond.. It did not take much persuasion, this time, to convince a rather shaken Lede, who had of course kept her eyes wide open, to take some rest….

Celia remained awake, watching, for foes, toward the ruins of Murond…

A few hours later, Celia felt some tugging in her back. She looked over her shoulder-and saw that Lede, sleeping, was trying to pull toward her one of her wings….

For an obvious reason: she was freezing, and it was the middle of the night. She was taking the wings as bed sheets! Sighing, Celia, who was finding this infinitely cute, put her wings in a "cupola" position : the tips pointing in front of her, bending over her shoulders, putting her face to face with Lede, who apparently found that "bed" quite decent. This vision put Celia back with her responsibilities…

I want to help her, but if she attach herself too much to me, this is going tol be… 


	5. Chapter Four: Alice and Lavian

Meanwhile, in Lesaria, in the Citadel...

"Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow..."

Lavian soft voice broke and she began sobbing. She would not hold much longer. The delirious episodes that she'd been having after many of the interrogation sessions were getting more and more frantic and painful. For her, of course, but also for her lone companion, Alice... The later girl knew all too well why she was singing that song,

"Come on, it's finished now. It's okay. You are with me, Lavian. No one will harm you."

Alice felt her heart sink when she said those words. Lavian was safe, yes...until the next interrogation session. The sessions lasted usually around three hours, and were separated by twice that time, clearly not enough for Lavian to recover. The next session one would come very, very soon, and both of them were very aware of it.

The first times, Lavian had walked to the dreaded room, a couple hundred meters away, with defiance. But after one week, she shrieked each time a guard passed on the hallway, fearing it was to drag her back one more time to this hellish room, in which she was losing her sanity at an accelerating pace. Alice was sure that those bastards were sometimes doing it on purpose, to prevent Lavian from getting some rest.

The interrogation sessions themselves were not really dangerous physically speaking, but they were devastating mentally. The Inquisition was very careful not to risk fatally injuring their prisoners. Since, after all, the dead can't sign confessions.

But this did not make the torture any less painful or less humiliating. Alicia had shivered whenever Lavian had described what they were doing to her. Lavian was clearly going mad (and with reason; Alicia had heard that some battle hardened veterans cracked down after _two _sessions). The worst thing in it was they never asked her any question. And this was quite on purpose: Lavian was being slowly destroyed in a deliberate manner.

Alice was sure that this truly infernal idea was coming straight from the woman they had seen with Delita, Lloth. She shuddered as she thought of Lloth and her eyes.

Those eyes...Alicia and Lavian were not superstitious, they knew that some people had red eyes naturally, such as Corail. In her case, those eyes could hardly be friendlier or warmer. But in the case of Lloth, they seemed to be an of burning hatred.

An age-old "soft" interrogation technique was to divide the roles of the interrogators. One would politely ask the questions, while the other did the dirty work--one Inquisitor, one "tormentor". Alicd was pretty sure that her and Lavian would have been able to last at least some weeks even under the worst tortures. But Alice could do nothing to withstand what Lloth was using against and Lavian her. Since Lloth divided the roles of the questioned ones in the same way, to add psychological pressure on Alice...

After medical care was given to them, as well as some days to recover from their injuries, it was Alicia who had been asked to sign the confession to various heresies, and collusion with the traitorous "Zodiac Conspiracy" (the offical expression used for describe the numerous incidents in Ivalice). Any allusion to Ajora was carefully avoided.

Signing the confession was the first step to either admitting in public her crimes, then being sentenced to life detention at best, in rather harsh detention conditions ...or retracting, and being burned at the stake. This was rather lovely choice, really

Alice had not even bothered to read the several dozen pages document fully before throwing it to the polite Inquisitor asking her to sign. Then, she braced herself for interrogation. To her surprise, she was simply brought back to her cell. At first, Alicia thought this was for her apprehension to build, to make her think about the situation...

So, when the Inquisitor came back six hours later, asking if she had changed her mind, Alicia took a deep breath, and said no yet again. She reasoned that torture was not so bad...probably better than confessing that she, along with Agrias and Lavian, was a monster deserving no mercy. Butit was Lavian who was tortured because Alicia had refused. This was why they had not been put in separate cells. To make sure that Alicia was devastated each time Lavian returned from the Questioning.

With this abominable, but also extremely effective, standard tactics like sordid cells, sleep deprivation, beatings and starvation were overkill. In fact, the cell they had was Spartan but quite decent, and the food was the kind that any good inn of Lesalia provided. There were even some books, mostly historical ones, that were there. Although tales of intrepid prisoners who had walked to their horrible deaths with defiance were maybe not the most encouraging literature at the present time. Lavian had tried to read some of them at first, to not think too much to her fate, but had given up some days ago.

This had probably been a private apartment that had been converted to a cell. The guards affected to Alice and Lavian were under the control of the Inquisition, and were fair with them, even quite polite. The Inquisition was doing this for various reasons, one of them being that when prisoners with bruises and blackened eyes (not to mention what could happen to female prisoners, even if this was less obvious) confessed their crimes, the public was often a bit sceptical as to the veracity of the said confession.

Alice strongly suspected that this dream-like detention (for her) was to make her feel guiltier for what was happening to Lavian. Even if both of them knew this method was intended to break them, and that if one of them confessed, both of them were doomed, it was very hard for Alice not to feel very bad about what was happening to her friend...The worst was that Lavian was beginning, even if she tried to not to show it, to hate her.

Suffering and risking death was one thing (and still, despite what people usually think, facing death on the battlefield was a very different thing than being methodically tortured, but seeing your lifelong friend being broken was another...

And for Alice, this was much harder to handle. Alice could have been proud of not signing the confession in a normal situation. But now, her resistance only brought dire consequences upon the person that mattered the most to her. This could only lead her to wonder about the point of refusing to sign this piece of lies...

Lavian suddenly stopped crying, only to vomit yet more water, a result of the latest interrogation, which had partly involved the dreaded Water Question. As Lavian coughed, she regained more or less her senses, and calmed a bit when she recognized Alice. But what she said was as distressing for Alice than Lavians's previous state.

"The...the spider, Alicia...the...dead and living spider...They showed it to me...it...talked to me! It threatened me! I can't go there anymore! IT'S TOO MUCH..."

Alicia knew what her friend was speaking about: a relic of the past, an very rare artefact, or rather a very peculiar creature that the Church called with various theological names, like Anguish of Ajora" or "Heart of the Angels. It had been dubbed the Ravager or the Reaper by the common folk, and it apparently deserved those names more than the official ones. What this thing was supposed to do (other than kill humans in a way that was rumored to be extremely painful) was a question still to be answered,of course. But one thing was for sure: this tiny thing was more feared by seasoned adventurers than an encounter with a pack of Dragons. After all, the worse thing than Dragons could do was to gobble someone alive, a rather nice fate when thinking about Ravagers...

Agrias had shown her two squires, in better times, some strange drawings of Ravagers. At first glance, this looked like a curious cross between a spider and a turtle, brightly colored. Those drawings had been made by the only survivor of a whole company that had found a specimen of the creature during the Fifty Year War.

The exact circumstances of the encounter were still a closely-kept secret. Anyway, this tiny spider-like creature had wiped out everyone in the company, except the female squire who'd managed to finish it off. According to the survivor, what had enabled it to kill the company was the fact that its "gaze" (although the word "gaze" was not the best term, since the creature did not even have eyes) had tremendous effects on human minds, turning soldiers on each other. The squire herself had been heavily injured by an indisputably human weapon, probably at the hands of one of her companions. (She was very reluctant to talk about those events, and she had refused to give more details) The poor girl committed suicide less than a year after the incident, deeply shocked.

The original drawings were on the floor of the inn room in which she had been found, and were...disturbing...to put it mildly. The squire had not been an artist, the creature was not very impressive aesthetically (heck, it was a mere spider to the untrained eye)

Almost everyone who looked at those drawings was shocked by the feeling of terror, evil, that came from them. Alice and Lavian too. And they had been looking at _reproductions _of the drawings. The original ones were even worse, because the squire had drawn them with such torment in her soul that this feeling could never be completely recaptured (fortunately). Further adding to the horror about the drawings was the fact that they were made with her _own blood..._ (not to mention the way she had killed herself)

The Church had even considered the possibility of using reproductions of the drawings for its teachings, but decided against it, due to their disturbing nature, Needless to say, all of this was making a _wholly _encouraging background for a meeting with the creature.

The term "dead and living", that Lavian had mentioned, was sometimes used to describe Ravagers. The origins of the expression were rather unclear, but it was sure that many eye-witnesses that had the misfortune of being too close of the thing had used it (well, when they were still able to talk about the experience, of course...)

It was certainly not a classical undead, nor was it just a lifeless machine like the..droid...(some engineers from Goug had used this term), known as Worker 7 that Alice and Lavian had seen during the War of Ajora. So, why this expression ?

Fortunately, Agrias had told them before the War of Ajora that the specimen the Inquisition had in its possession was quite dead, and could not harm anyone. The Inquisitors had probably brought it in front of Lavian, knowing that Agrias had shown her the drawings, and hoped that with her...confused, to say the least mind state, this would make her panic even more. This had worked perfectly. Lavian was completely terrorized, and the little rest she managed to get was filled with nightmares.

Alice tried to explain the situation to Lavian...with dreadful results. The poor girl was sure the Ravager had threatened her. She...in some days, her mind would be destroyed...

A normal defense against this tragedy would have been to recall memories from happier times in childhood. It really did not help in their cases. Their whole lives were...a lie.

They had fabricated tales to everyone, to hide the truth, and...this was about to end.

People would know about what they had been reduced to do. And the worse thing was not the fact that the Inquisition was after them...it was that, because of the Inquisition, Lady Agrias was bound to realize that her squires had lied to her during years...

Alice's origins were not as horrible as those of the poor Lavian. Her father was a somewhat wealthy merchant. His relations with his daughter had always been quite bad. It had broken Alice's heart at first, until she stopped caring, and feeling guilty about her simple existence. For that was what her father hated about her. She was alive.

For him, Alicia had committed an unspeakable crime: she had taken the place of the expected first son. For many Damaskians, daughters were worthless, and when they were lone children, they were a curse. Quite stupidly, no one in Damaskia had realized in over a millennium that if there were just male children born, as was certainly the hope of many backward-thinking people, there were sooner or later going to be some problems with the birth rate. But what could be excepted in a kingdom whose most fondly remembered king was a moronic tyrant whose exploit had been to receive the blessing of eight sons ? The fact that the lone daughter, Princess Ashe, had done more for Damaskia during the Great War than all her siblings combined, plus the father, was totally forgotten.

Alice's birth had been very difficult, to the last, and her mother could not bear another child afterward, making her completely worthless in the eyes of her husband, who tried several time to repudiate her and disown Alice. He almost never spoke to Alice, but never forgot to curse Ajora for having given him a daughter when she was present. (Saying this had been cruel was an understatement.) Years later, Alicia was still trying to persuade herself that her mother had loved her despite those facts, and that the coldness she had displayed toward her daughter was due to the fear she had of her husband.

This fear had been perfectly justified, because Alicia's mother was killed by her father in drunken rage, when Alice was eight. A considerable bribe was made to the magistrate, and no one bothered to make the slightest inquiry. Her father waited _two weeks _to marry the barely sixteen-year old daughter of one of his business partners. When she arrived, Alice had of course hated her from the depth of her heart. This was in her Damaskian days, however. Right now, she really had pity for her stepmother, who certainly did not want this union. Alice's stepmother would die before Alicr left the cursed shores of Damaskia. The cause of death had been "consumption" (the official word for repeated beatings. Her father was truly a bastard.) Alice did not care to wait for her father to expel her from the house, as she was sure that her father would quickly find ways of labeling her a bastard child, one that he certainly did not have to support.

Alicia left on her own, not even leaving behind a note. Why do that? This would never touch her father. What would have touched him was an idea she toyed with... burning down one his warehouses...with her inside (of course, the destruction of the merchandise would have hurt him more than her death). But she was not like him; she did not enjoy hurting other Humans. Alice simply left the place, without taking anything, so as not to be accused of being a thief. Now, Alice personally hoped to never again cross the path og her father-this was nothing to her. If she met him (at least, this was a worry she no longer had in her current situation), things could turn out very, very badly...One of the things that Alice disliked the most about her father was that, because of him, she was burning with hate for her little half-brother, whom she had never seen.

Anyway, surviving in the streets of an Damaskian city was harsh, but possible, even at a young age...Very, very hard, put possible. Alice had certainly lead until that point a easy life on the material side, which made the transition quite rough. With her family, she never had thought about her future...Now, she was without future. It was not much different...She stole food and begged, not thinking too much about the next day.

The only thing she done was changing of city, for not risk meeting her familiy again. It was a pointless life. She had almost lost track of time (it was roughly a year later...) when she met Lavian. Alice was scavenging the food that was left after a day of market (a dangerous thing, as taking almost rotten potatoes discarded by merchants was still considered as thievery, and she would get a severe beating if she was catched)

There was another girl in her situation, who said that her three potatoes would be better if boiled, and that combined with the two sweet ones she found, this would make a more palatable meal. Surprised, Alice accepted, and followed the girl-Lavian back to her "home", a room in an abandoned building. It was very obvious why no one was challenging her for the possession of this place : cold wind was sweeping from every wall of the piece, making it very marginally better than standing outside in the winter.

The tiny fire Lavian had make was certainly not very warming : she had lighted it primary for warm the little stones that she would drop when hot in the old helmet filled with rain water that was acting as her saucepan. This was very primitive, but this was far better than eating potatoes raw, like Alice had planned to do. Still, five potatoes for two, that was not very much...But Alice was enjoying talking to someone who was not full of disdain for her. So, when Lavian suggested that they could, if Alice wished, return tomorrow together on "food hunting", she eagerly accepted the offer.

After a few days, this purely functionnal relation evolved in friendship, especially when each girl noticed that the other was not, after all, trying to exploit the situation, to trick the other Soon, they were talking what had been their "lives" to this point.

Lavian's life was worse than her, if possible, for a reason that was even more injust than for Alice...Lavian was condamned for her birth to be all her life an outcast in Damskia : her skin was few tones darker than the one of the average Damaskian, being light brown.

For as long as she recalled, she had been identified as a "gipsy", which meant that she had even less rights than a Damaskian girl, which were already very limited.

Another thing about the "Great and Powerful Kingdom of Damaskia" (which was neither great or powerful, and not longer a real Kingdom) was the racism of the population. In Ivalice, Valencia, Muria, no one was caring about things like that. The reasons why Damaskians were thinking like that were multiple, but the core of this could be traced back to the Aftermath of the the Great War, following the accidental destruction by fire of several cities of Damaskia, that caused severe civilian disruptions.

As a result, there was dozens of pogroms targeted at the supposed authors of the fire. Those riots were masterminded by the Crown, who feared that the despair of the population would turn against the royal family. Iif her tomb had not been destroyed by the firestorm, Queen Ashe would had turned in it. Her sucessors were not of her level.

The scapegoats were the various "foreigners", including Humans from other nations, but also non-Humans, like the large communities of Vieras that Queen Ashe had welcomed in Damaskia after the war, in gratitude of the role they played in the war. Those events had almost been their deathblow : they were fewer than Humans from the start _and more than half of their total population was killed... _Some have said that the rising power of the Church was behind that ; as it was previsible, an _Human _religion was not very attractive for Vieras. (This accusation was a bit unfair. The Church was not racist at the core ; Damaskians and Rovannians were using the Church for their aims...Some fanatics were certainly screaming at the time against the "heathens", however, both Humans and Vieras, like showed the much more recent history of the Murianese...)

The other nations (except Rovannia, who was hoping to make of Damaskia her satellite) were outraged by those actions, and the military operations they lead in retalation destroyed what was left of the prestige of the Damaskian central authority...As soon as the Allied ships leaved Damaskia, new massacres were organized by leaders of the "real" Damaskians against "foreigners" that had been living in Damskia for centuries, but whose appearance where not matching the one that the ''true'' Damaskians were supposed to have. In this so-called renewal of Damaskia, the kingdom lost almost the half of its population in a few years, and the absolute economic desaster that was a conscequence of that was put on the back of the foreigners, now dubbed as inferiors.

No wonder that since that time, relations between Damaskia and the rest of the world were limited except military actions.And that means that Lavian life was quite hard...

Her mother was a war prisonner took during a Damaskian raid, maybe in Ivalice. This means that she was a slave...Lavian never had the slighest doubt that she was the result of a rape. She had been dropped out in a orphanage run by the Church when she was two, and ran away from this place at six, no longer able to bear the scorn from the priests.

The little info she had on her mother (for obvious reasons, she cared even less than Alice about her father) was stuff she managed to gather with Alice when she was older.

This depressing info was topped by the fact that Lavian's mother was dead some years ago : she had killed herself to escape slavery. Lavian did not even a picture, or a memory of her...The only legacy she had from her mother her skin, that was her bane.

All the time they were in Damaskia, Alice had to cheer up Lavian almost each day, saying that copper was a pretty color, that she did not think that Lavian was a sub-human, and such things.This was not really working, but Lavian was glad of the efforts...

The rest of their early lives had been not exactly merrier...As one might have guess, things got even more sinister when they entered their teens, for obvious reasons.

When she turned twelve, Alice was determined to go in Ivalice with Lavian. For the first time of her lives, both of them had plans for future. With the Civil War in Ivalice entering its last phases, there would certainly be some opportunities for "normal" work for them. (The said normal work being soldiers or mercenaries...this was very significative about the harsheness of life in Damaskia...) Both Alice and Lavian were at this time quite skilled at defending themselves, using only small rusted knifes: some years later, Lady Agrias had been astonished by their capacities when wielding small bladed weapons).

They hoped that those skills could be transferred for regular combat skills. It was more a dream than anything else, however. Because going in Ivalice was going to be difficult. The only possibility was taking one of the few foreign ships still doing some trade with Damaskia (despite all the hate of the foreigners policies, some imports were necessary...)

Obtaning passage on a ship toward Ivalice was relatively easy. Finding the kind of capitain that would not make a side-trip to Rovannia for selling them as "servants" to some noble was harder. The ones that were in a way honest were also very business-like, as making deals with Damaskia was quite hard for foreign sailors.

Sure, in other nations, you had to bribe officials, but at least, they had the decency of not confiscating your merchandise immediatly, or sink your ship with ballistas after taking the bribe ! Taking up passengers with dubious background was exactly the kind of thing that could justify a ship boarding, so, for accepting it, the capitain had to be compensated in advance, looking away, don't asking questions...this kind of things.

From Alice inquiries, it was _2000 gils units by passenger. _For be honest, it was not an impressive sum in Ivalice or Valencia. But Alice and Lavian, in all her lives, had never seen more than twenty units together...Despite that, for keeping moral, in their very marginally improved ''Home'' (they had brought or stole some things : clothes, sheets, some stuff for cooking...) they still made plans about what they would do in Ivalice. If Alice and Lavian had not been here for each other, valuing the survival of the other as much as her own (and maybe more...) they would have sunk very, very low.

For trying, to raise the money Alice was already doing stuff that was clearly in the side of illegality. Courrier jobs, some smuggling, petty thieveries...All kind of operations in which the risk to be killed or seriously beaten (or worse) was disproportionate to the pay...as long as she stayed into the "low", jobs. Some of her bosses had been impressed by her skills, and offered her promotions in their organizations. She had been tempted to accept more than one time, but refused, as when you get caught in that kind of stuff, you know when you get into it, but never when you get out...That brough enought money to survive without begging or stealing, but never enough to began saving for their journey.

There was not only this trip, however, in their lives. Both of them tried to do simple things for make it less unbearable...One of the best moment in Alice whole life (heck, it certainly beat their current situation !) was when she managed to scrape enough money to pay for both of them a nice meal in an middle-level restaurant, for the day that have been arbitrary designated as Lavian birthday, her supposed 12th, Alice being at this time thirteen. Alice never said that to Lavian. to not mortify her even more, but she had to pay twice the price of the meal in bribe just for the admission of her friend.

"Gypsies" had really not a single right, in Damaskia. This meal alone was a welcome change from the half-starving that was their ordinary life. It was also the nicest attention Lavian had ever received, and fortunately, she had been so happy that she never noticed the way some clients were looking at her during this evening.

This memory was quite good compared to their rest of their lives at this time period.

The lowest point was reached several months after this event. The poor Lavian, always a bit naive, had always tried to earn her share of the money by doing fully honest stuff, like selling flowers or pastries. (Alice was sure that Lavian was doing this mostly because Gypsies were supposed to be nothing more than thieves, prostitutes or beggars) Lavian was doing her best, and took great care for making those little things.

There was really something pathetic about the fact that, each day, she tried to sell pastries that she took hours to make, not eating one of them even as she was starving...She was gaining even less money than Alice, but her friend prefered to not destroy Lavian illusions. The problem was that Lavian, this way, looked very innocent and vulnerable, which was very dangerous in Damaskia...One day, after six hours of being teased, insulted about her skin (it was happening each day...it's was hurting her, but she was getting used to it...) a old woman came next to her, and said nicely that she was willing to buy her some pastries and flowers. Could she come ring it to her home ?

She would pay Lavian generously...Lavian was maybe a bit trusting, but not stupid, far from it. She would _never _had accept to follow the woman if she was not looking so innocuous, and if she had not been so despaired for money. The woman was probably a very good actress, having played this little comedy countless time, with other despaired girls. She had also the "quality" that helped her to look more credible : total lack of scrupule. And, after all, the woman had paid Lavian for her goods in advance !

Lavian could not afford to be difficult, when most of the others persons that took her things never bothered to pay her. Lavian started to have doubts when she was noticed the look of the house she was being sent to. But before she had time to react, the old woman had made a sign to one of her thugs, who grabbed Lavian's wrist and basically threw her in a bare room, whose door was immediatly locked, with the old woman laughing of the stupidity of her latest prey...Lavian did not ask what was happening : she was quite aware of it. Especially when she heard the woman said that she hoped that she would last longer than the last girl that occupied this room. Sure, a Gypsie had no rights, but they could be pretty (very pretty, in Lavian's case). Damaskians could do anything to them.

For the Church, they were heathens, inferior, nothing...And in Damaskia, money was everything. Thinking that this was acceptance of her fate, the woman came later in the room, to gloat over Lavian, and to...to do something else, that would caue problem later.

Soon after, the woman left the place : she had to sell Lavian to one of her clients, at the highest bidder. This gave Alice enough time to realize what happened to her friend, and try to do something. She considered first asking her current boss for some favor.

She declined the idea quickly. It would probably bring more problems than anything else, not mentionning the possibility that the woman was one of the associates of the boss...Alice had waited for the night, to break into the...well, brothel.

She had localized during the day the room where Lavian was held, and her picking up of the lock was quite accelerated by the fact that Lavian had already done it from her side.

They were only in the hallway when the woman came back, with the client, a Noble, The Noble than offered his thanks to the woman, saying that he was going to have two girls for the price of one. What had happened afterward was very blurred into the minds of Alice and Lavian. The Damaskian noble was much taller than them, and he had one guard with him. But he was a decadent man, and Alice and Lavian were getting strenght from raw desperation. Alice got lucky with one throw of her dagger, which landed in the face of the Noble, making him scream, and fled, followed by his guard. For the rest...

They had almost forgotten how, or why, its happened, but it was sure that a some point, the woman had died, (not exactly of natural death...) the place catched fire, as they were getting out with a sizable amount of liberated money. Almost enough for their journey.

There was only a problem Lavian had been marked by this infernal old woman...

Damaskian religious authorities were quite adept for finding ways to preserve their "herd" from so called immoral influences. This herd was often limited...

In fact, most of the time, the only flock that actually mattered, for many preachers, were the various Warlords and their followers, who could gave amounts of Gil to churches and monasteries. The Church prayed for them, lauded their actions as divine inspired...

For the rest of the population, the service of the Churches were mostly preaches blaming the foreigners for all the trouble of Damaskia, preaching obedience to their masters on this world. As well as the conception that Damaskians were the Chosen Ones of Ajora.

All the others Humans were just good enough to be slaves. Especially Murianeses...

Alice and Lavian, on this point, had grew up while being taught that Murianeses were a crosss between Demons and witches (in Damaskia, «Tiefline» and «Murianese» were almost with the same meaning). With the quality of the education they had, this had made them much more _curious _than anything else about Muria. Intrigued, even...Lady Agrias, who was following rather closely the teachings of the Church, never understood why her squires were so deeply interested by the Murianeses emissaries that sometimes came...

Anyway, another feature of their "beloved" Church was institutions like the orphanage in which Lavian had lived. On this point, from what Alice and Lavian knew, almost 90 of the girls put there were basically sold as "servants" in Rabanastre, sometimes as soon as they were ten years old. The Chuch was not even _trying _to hide this.

Another idea in this style was to mark the various "sinners", to warn the faithful followers of the sins those persons had committed. (Or rather, be sure that such lowly beings would not soil Damaskians by their mere presence) The clerics of Ivalice and Valencia had said long ago that such marking pratices were against the core of the Faith.

This core, this was the Redemption, the certitude that if you were sincere, you could atone for your sins. There was not only bad things about the Church in Ivalice. Another good point was the simple fact that, despite what some Nobles tried to said, the official doctrine of the Church would always be that all Humans were equals. (Unfortunately there was slight problem with the high clergy...and with Ajora...) The clerics in Ivalice, Valencia and Rovannia were fully aware that someone marked with such a sign was certainly condamned to awful lives, a thing they found (rightly) completly immoral.

It was what had happened to Lavian. The woman had marked her to dispirit her, to break her. With that, her low chances of having a normal life were reduced to nothing.

The "P" on her right shoulder (of obvious meaning) of infamy was almost indelebile. It was burning Lavian more than if it was made with red-iron. The problem was that this was made with a very special tincture used by Damaskian slaver lords...In Muria, prisonners found in possession of this substance received: immediate death. The fact that they were Damaskians was a sort of neat bonus for the Murianeses, of course...

The tincture, bloodred, was called for some reason "hennah of the day marker"

This was much more efficient, in a sense than the red-iron marks. It was a secret of the Damaskian Church. Who was for sale, for various slavers and such individuals...

Alice knew about henneh, a cheap dye for getting brown colors, but HENNAH ?

And why "of the day" ? This name means nothing...Anyway, the other name used for it "Day Hennah Marker" did not made much more sense. The thing was horrible, however.

The marker, at tiny doses, changed the color of the skin on a very localized zone for a few days The interesting part was that,_ even if the skin was critically injured, the sign made with the tincture regenerated with time. _Removing the mark was almost impossible.

At higher doses, the effect lasted for years. And according to Lavian the woman had injected enough of this special dye for the effect last longer than her entire lifespan.

That bastard had promised to Lavian to remove it if she was "gentle" (traduction, a submissive doll...) for a couple of years, and that she was better to accept her fate.

Lavian had attempted to hide the mark for a couple of days, fearing Alice reaction.

Alice had done many things that were moraly discutable in her life, but in her opinion, the worst she ever done was to say to Lavian, in anger, that she was a burden. She immediatly and sincerly excused herself, but she had said it, and saying that this had hurt Lavian was understatement...Lavian was not responsible of what had happened...

The only thing to do was trying to find a way to remove the tincture. It was hard, but not impossible. For there was an antidote, in the possession of the Church too. Alice had not much trouble finding a corrupted priest with some doses at his dispostion. The priest had asked her a sum equivalent to almost all the money they had liberated. She paid him without much hesitation.Another part of the deal was...harsher, harder, but Alice still accepted it, altought it had affected her for the rest of her life...It was for Lavian.

This deal angered her so much against the Church that she had been with Lavian the only one _laughing _during the final battle against Ajora, as they were having a chance to avenge themselves for what the Church had done to them. This was sweet...

The dose of the antidote that Alice got was not very potent : it did not erase completly the mark, but paled it considerably. Currently, the mark was almost invisible, and what was left of it was clervely hidden by an scar (actual, made out on purpose) running _next _to it. But if the Inquisition knew what to search, they were _sure _to find it quickly...and they would told this to Lady Agrias. Lavian was...going to die of shame, about this. (if the Inquisition did not burned her first. This point was hardly funny for Alice and Lavian...)

After losing their precious money...there was no other ways to regain it. But it was at such a slow pace that they had been forced to use more and more desperate methods. Methods that ended up costing them almost as much as what they won (bribes and like)

The irony of what happened after was terrible. One of the reliable merchent ship capitain, after having bought in good faith some merchandise, learned that it have been stolen, and that the Damaskian authorities were about to come to inspect her ship shortly.

Knowing the Damaskian way of doing things, the capitain prefered to be safe than sorry, and promptly throwed at the sea the said merchandise. When the Damaksian port autorities showed up, they could only claim the regular bribe. The capitain then felt that she was owing to her two informators something : like, for instance, safe transportation.

Alice and Lavian always felt somewhat bad about this. It was them of course them that warned the capitain, but also them who wrote the anonymous letter (Alice and learned to read and write before leaving her house, and she taught it to Lavian).

Still, they paid the capitain what they had left-around a thousand Gil-and embarked with their meager possessions. One year after, the capitain had the surprise to receive four thousand Gil units from an anonymous sender : the money that Alice and Lavian had earned as soldiers since their arrival. She made the association with her two passengers, but was not overly angered : they had pay her, in the end. Finally, two girls that were that smart were probably much more useful in Ivalice than in an Damaskian "city".

When they finally reached the shores of Ivalice, Alice and Lavian had promplty found work as _valets d'armes _(something lower than squires, the very first rank in an army) in a small town in contested zone. The local garrison was quite careless : they were lead into an amush, and almost killed to the last man by an unit of the dreaded Death Knights

The Death Knightswere an extremly tough unit, to say the least. Their name was not what it seemed to be : they were _not _the Knights _of_ Death ; they were "knights" that had nothing to lose, except their lives, which they risked. They were not making chivalric warfare or war in laces. But still, most of the soldiers in the ranks of the Death Knights, despite the name, were quite correct with civilians. Same things for most of the officers (all non-noble. It was that that was making this unit so special) like Miluda and Wiegraf (Well, of course, the real Wiegraf...Not the one later corrupted by the Stones...)

And all impartial records showed that the Death Knights were very reliable in battle. (The word "Knight" was widely used in Ivalice, and had several senses that were not always synonyms. At the very base, a Knight was supposed to be an heavy oisellery warrior, but most often then not, Knights fighted as infantry in those days. Knights were also supposed to be of noble birth, which was why the Death Knights were so badly welcomed. But "Knights" was also used to point out orders not always made out of only sword-users...) The little problem was that there was also some bloodthirsty monsters in this unit, that forever shamed the repuation of the Knights, but also of the Death Corps...an movement that truly desserved a better fate. It was such a man that was commanding the unit that was about to assault the place. Gustav (Alice heard with pleasure some time ago that Renard and Flora have been present at his death...)

At this time, his reputation was already so bad that several citizens burned their houses themselves-in some case, with them inside, to prevent him for pillage. What was left of the garrison, seeing that the situation was hopeless, negotiated their reddition, in exchange for open gates. It was somewhat soothing that those soldiers supposed to protect the population were killed nonetheless by Gustav when they get out of the city.

The city was stormed, but the soldiers of Gustav met unexepted resistance when they tried to get the Citadel. Probably some elements of the garrison, or civilians attempting to fend the attack. A fake assault would certainly soften up that last pocket. The said pocket hold all the day and night, causing light casualties to Gustav forces, but still preventing for assaulting the place. Cursing, Gustav ordered retreat, as there was ennemy reinforcement coming. When, a day later, Lady Agrias came with an unit to relieve the city (too late...), she founds Alice and Lavian as the lone armed defenders of the citadel, and, touching scene, Lavian was trying to calm one child with a song...

They were heroins, that had saved the bulk of the population for murder and pillage. (It was why Lavian was singing the same song. She was making an association between that time, with the population cheering them for their courage, and the current one, where they were about to be spat upon...) Quite pleased, Agrias took them as her squires.

Lady Agrias was very perceptive : it's probable that she did not believed the tale that Alice and Lavian made about their lives in Damaskia, knowing how life was in this forsaken land. But it was sure that Lady Agrias was not thinking that this had been _so bad _...That the get out of Damskia by lying, stealing, murdering...Alice feared more than anything than the Inquisition managed to learn some of this...this would break Lady Agrias heart. Alice noticed, by the angle of the shadows in her cell, that the dreaded six hours delay between each interrogation sceance had ellapsed. She tried to bought some time for Lavian: this was the only thing that she could attempt to do...

Deliberatly, slowly, Alice bringed her head closer to Lavian, who was more or less sleeping now, in a way that even the most brain dead human would have find a bit "more than friendly"...At least, she hoped that this would look that way : if the guards constantly surveying them reacted like the average stupid human male, they would not interfere in the hope that things would go further-with, of course, them watching.

They would have been surprised to know that, at this time, what was troubling Alice the most was not the contact with Lavian...but the idea that was crossing her mind often recently...Far too often for her tastes. When she was doing this (she had done it a couple of times in the past days) Alice head was very, very close to Lavian's neck. And it was this sight that was giving her ideas making her shiver each time she had them...

Lavian's neck...Alice had the possibility to spare to her friend a painful agony on the stake and further torture. A simple pressure on the right place, next to the carotid, and Lavian would fall almost immediatly into a peaceful slumber...Then, Alice only need to...a strong twist of Lavian's neck, and it would be over for her. It would be a quick and painless death. Alice was sure that the guards would never have the time to intervene. Especially if she did something that would draw their attention...like, for instance kissing Lavian. This idea in particular was of course somewhat troubling for Alice...

That kiss would either please her, or totally surprise her. In both case, that would soften her last moments. But Alice knew she would never be able to do that (the killing...) First of all, the painless stuff was dubious, since the principal interested never shared their opinion on the question...And, if things were badly done, the agony could last several minutes. Lavian did not desserve that. She desserved even less to die. No, Alice could _never _do something like that to her best friend. Death is a punition, not a reward...Still, if all this was true...why she was currently drawing her lips closer to the ones of Lavian ?

When Lavian suddenly opened her eyes, startling totally the other squire, who was not really aware of what she was doing, Alice's face was mere centimeters from Lavian's...

-Alice...what are you doing ? (This was a rethorical question...Lavian had woken up some time ago, and had a pretty good idea of what Alice was about to do in the next seconds)

Alice, her cheeks completly red, fully realizing what she had tried to do, was about to fumble a pathetic explanation...when noticed that Lavian was _smiling. _For the first time in many days...She was not angered. She was not furious against Alice...

This quite ackward scene ended when one Inquisitor came throught the door of the cell. As the thoughts of both of them were racing furiously, they had not noticed his arrival...He was coming for Lavian. She screamed and backed herself against the wall...

"First...err...I'm...Trust me, I did not knew that you were...(He seemed really ill at ease...) Anyway. I'm afraid that your friend is going to have to follow me for another"

Lavian was no longer hearing...She was weeping all the tears of her body. This was too much for Alice, especially when Lavian started to kick feebly the guards grabbing her.

"NO ! You...you...won. Go tell to Lloth that her plan worked..I will sign the confession...just leave her alone. Don't touch her...I will do what you want..."

Lavian sobbed one more time, then calmed a bit. She had probably understood what Alice said : litteraly signing their dooms...But for her, honestly, this was only the end of torture...After all, their execution would be, in a sense, nothing more than an end...An end of their lives, messed for the start. They had not really childhood, they had not really teen years. It was not really a surprise that they would have even less adult life...

The Inquisitor leaved the cell, and quickly came back with a document..The confession.

"I'm going to sign this piece of lie. You are happy ? But...don't touch her. Nevermore."

"As long as you will not retract, we will no longer question her...She is broken, anyway."

"Yes, I'm aware of that...You had destroyed her, you know it. And...you ashamed me. You had forced me to admit things that will kill, destroy also Lavian and Lady Agrias..."

"If I say this, it's only because the King and...the King ! allowed me to say it...Agrias have confessed her sins some days ago, partly in exhange of a promise of leniency toward you two. Trust me or not on this point...you will see what is true during your trial."

Alice sneered at first. The Inquisition was not really harsher than most civilians tribunals when it come to sentencing-for small stuff, you could be condamned to some years of detention, and even being given less time if showing sincere repentance. But, for an Heresy of the magnitude of the one they were accused (pretending that Ajora was something still indeterminate, but certainly not a god...the truth), the probable sentence would be the stake. The leniency would probably be that they were going to be strangled before the fire was started. Not a big difference in the end.Then, Alice thought of some executions that she had been forced to witness...With the luck they had so far in their lives, the execution would probably so messy that this leniency was better than nothing.

She took a deep breath, took the pen, and signed the confession of her various "sins"...


	6. Chapter Five : Miluda

**In a recent timeframe, after the fall of a small fortress in Ivalice...**

The man that was looking at the row of corpses bringed in the small chapel of the fortress, mumbling with dubious conviction some words, suddenly stopped his rambling...

"Miss, some of those...those soldiers are from the Death Corps ! Are you sure that you"

"Hey, black-robe, we hired you for perform burial rites, not ask questions. Pray..."

"But miss, they...they were rebels, that were killed weapons in the hands, and..."

"They are dead, it's the key word. It's Ajora that's judging them now, not you...Resume."

The priest compelled, but with so little sincerity that Flora left the room, full of anger, to not slap him.. Her brother, with Singleton, was in the hallway outside, and he was outraged too.

"I'm not sure that a ceremony said with so little sincerity is going to be much helpful..."

"Damned, Renard, that's the only one I found in a twenty five kilometers radius ! At least, he is knowing minimally his prayers for the departed ! I did the best I could. You know like me that the Church is never sending it's brighest members to backwaterplace like this..."

Flora, before continuing, checked if there was nearby "hostile ears". No. Perfect.

"...Renard, what are we doing in this mess ? Can you say seriously to me, without laughing, that all those "rebels" desserved death ? I'm telling you, the only time I felt an urge to kill in this battle was when I heard the tirade of Lord Algus about the Nobles..."

"Yeah", replied Renard..."It's would be really funny to see how "His Lowness" would perform as a commander of a real military unit. In my opinion, he will last two, three days before being murdered by his own soldiers, thank to all his little speeches..."

"I think", tried Singleton, "that the Commander is getting tired of him and his fanatism. What he is doing currently is really not helping. He will not support much longer Algus..."

"True", added Flora.. "The Commander and Delita are quite decent guys, to be honest...The Commander...He let Miluda withdraw with was left of her troops, after all...".

There was a scream of pain and terror, faintly audible, as this was coming from a room located several levels down in the ruins, interrupted this discussion. The very generous offer of the Commander had not included the soldiers of Miluda _already _took as prisonners...

"Lord Algus is still interrogating prisonners" said with an icy voice Saphire,

She was at the other end of the corridor, apart from the three others as usual. She said no more, but the three others felt (and shared too) her deep down disgust for Algus, his ideology, and his actions. This was not the first time the Noble was doing things like that. He had tortured for information a prisonner in Dorter, and he was clearly a real sadist.

Speaking of the devil...Algus arrived soon after in the improvised mortuary, two of his personnal soldiers dragging a limp form. Another prisonner executed after been tortured.

"She tried to escape, and I had to kill her", said, barely hiding his laughter, Algus. "Put it with the others. I have things to do...I know were the leader of those animals is heading !"

The _it _was very intentional, as well as the "animal" terminology, and this was quite commin, with Algus...Just to let know to the quartet that he considered them not much better than the Rebels. For some reason, the insult of Algus brought a sort of smile on the lips of Saphirre. (well, for an outsider, this looked like her lower lip had twitched very slightly)

"Each day I pass with Nobles, I learn things, thanks to such astonishing cleverness and knowledge" said quietly Renard. "Like, for instance, that three man in battle armourr had not other means of stopping an evasion made by an unarmed prisonner than kill her..."

"At least, this time", continued Flora, "I guess you can't say she attacked you, your Highness, like all the others...Those Rebels are so treacherous ! Daring to attack you, someone of such standing! Maybe you should have recited your titles, that would have impressed them..."

"Not mentionning", concluded sarcastically Renard, "that, as I am dumb peasant, I'm was not even aware that someone _fleeing, _with wrists and ankles bound (a little strange, in my opinion) could receive a sword thrust_ in her chest, and not in her back..._"

Both comments angered deeply Algus, who could not support any form of dissenssion...

"I will never understand why Ramza is not executing all three of you for gross disrespect toward a commanding officer...toward a Noble. Not only direspect : treason, too. As you are showing by not letting those dead animals rot in the ruins of their fortress, as an example for the others ! They dont need prayers ! God, Ajora, is only for the Nobles..."

He continued on for a while. Flora did not cared much about those threats. Algus was not exactly liked by the soldiers of the Commanders, thanks to his charisma (or rather, his complete lack of the said quality. And, in fact, any quality), and the quartet was not, by far, the only ones that did not showed much respect to Algus. Basically, this was not very risky, as the Commander and Delita would lack manpower if they executed everyone Algus disliked...

"I must admit" muttered Flora, in a non-audible manner "that there is something strange when guys like you are not incinerated by bolts of lightning after saying such things..."

"Lord Algus, what we do with the meager pay we get is totally our business", replied Renard. "And I must precise that we thought of hiring this priest for giving _everyone _burial service. Because, you were a bit too occupied to notice it, my Lord, but the cowardly rabble fought to the death, and inflicted us a lot of casualties and fatalities to our soldiers…"

"Commoners fatalities", said with scorn Algus. "You are barely _pawns _for us..."

The chess metaphor deeply amused Renard. He wondered _seriously _who was the pawn for whom, in this whole affair. It was certainly not Algus who was the key piece, however..."

"Neither me", continued the Noble, "or the Hotuken care about this...You hate me, I know it. But you are powerless to do anything against me ! You are not even a true nuisance…You are, at best, amusing me…You think that paying cheap funerals to those fools will help you against us, the Nobles, the ones favoured by Ajora ? They will _burn in Hell !_"

"Oh, no, no, lord Algus", replied Flora, "this is _nothing _personal, the priest we paid! I assure you that I will _gladly _pay for your own funeral a first class priest, incense and a lenghty ceremony! I'm sure that every single soldier in the unit would accept to pay for it..."

Algus was not really, even not at all, a bright man, but still realized the not-so subtle truth behind those this sentence. That Flora wished openly his death (as early as possible...)

Like, in fact, almost everyone serving under the Commander. The brutes Algus had took as personnal soldiers were another matter, however, as they had blind loyalty to him...

Even with those protectors, no one would be really surprised, or would have asked many questions if a day, after a battle, Algus was found dead in a ditch with a couple of arrows or bolts stuck in his back, and of course not fired from the ennemy lines...

"Rabble...You are nothing more than rabble, that Ramza finds useful ! As soon as you will have exhausted your usefulness, like this Delita, I will personally deal with you !"

"Shut up, Lord Algus", said quietly Saphire. "We are all sick of your presence, and you don't consider us Humans. So, why you are bothering to talk to us ? Just go away..."

Algus did not even bothered to answer, and motionned his mindless soldiers to drop the corpse, who fell on the stone floor with a sickening sound, that seemed to delight Algus. He leaved soon after the corridor, followed by four quite murderous pairs of eyes...

His latest victim was a female priestress of the Death Corps...she had shared the fate of more than a dozen of other prisonners, who had all been dealt with the upmost brutality...

The term "priest" had to be use carefully, for it could be use to designate both members of the Church and what was basically users of curative magic. She was in the later case.

The gir, who was barely above twenty years old. She had been obviously tortured, and she was livid, except for the scarlet marks that indicated burns, or other tortures...

Singleton and Renard had saw at once the injury that caused her death, a sword thrust in the chest. Algus was quite sincere, when he spoke about killing people that was no longer useful to him, and this poor girl had, to judge by his words, said all what he needed to hear...

But when he saw her from a closer viewpoint, Singleton immediatly noticed something.

He kneeled near the priestress. hoping that with the localization of the wound...

Yes. Algus was truly a fool. The priestresse had received the sword strike in the left lung, a truly hideous injury, an almost fatal one, but one that was basically_ survivable..._

He knew better than signal this to Algus, which would kill her without flinching.

Or to the priest, who would report to the Noble...He made a sign to Renard, Flora and Saphirre, who quickly understood the situation. Flora quickly searched for a room that would be minimally isolated and discret, while Saphirre stayed on the hallway as sentry.

Finally, Renard and Singleton carried as cautiously as possible the priestress in the chosen room. With a little luck, she would be able to save her life. Singleton being an exceptionnally qualified "medic", not only for the herbalists skills, but for surgery proper.

Still, there was a LOT of difference between remove a bolt from a limb and patching up a pierced lung. Singleton hoped that the priestresss was really deep into inconsiousness , as if she woke up, she will be in for quite a shock, seeing above her someone who had basically opened her like a doll...Singleton carefuly took one of his daggers, one with the blade fine enough to be considered as a rough scalpel, and began to do his work...

The priestress came back to her senses twenty-four hours later, and found a scene much different that when she had fainted, sure to be soon dead...First of all, she was no longer in the fortress, but in a much more...pastoral...location. She was next to a small fall, in a grove, instead of the depressing swamps that were around the fortress. In fact, she was _above _those swamps: she recognized the area as the banks of the river that fed the said swamp.

The fortress was visible, in the distance. But the little tent she was set into, carefully camouflaged, was quite certainly invisible for the unwarned eye. To add to the puzzlement of the priestress, she had clearly received medical care, as the numerous bandages she wore on her chest was an ample proof of that (as well as the fact that she was clearly alive...)

She still felt a very sharp pain in her chest, but it was nothing compared to the icy agony she felt when Algus had thurst his sword to finish her...This immediate relief vanished when she saw that there was, next to her, a woman wearing an light armor with Hotuken markings...

"Hey, hey, don't panic" said Flora. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it long ago. I'm glad you made it. We brought you there for minimize chances of others finding you..."

"First thing, if you are a friend...Where are the others ? There was others prisonners..."

Flora hoped that the mass grave that have been dug for the corpses was out of sight...In fact, it was on the other side of the fortress, but the priestress understood rather quickly...

"They are dead, aren't they ? You are a Noble or a servant of them...What do you want from me ? You are trying the "gentle" method now ? You hope that I will lead you to our last weapon caches ? In that case, you are better to kill me right now..."

"We are not Nobles, and even less their servants...I have much sympathy for your cause."

Flora was not overly worried about being heard. The noise from the waterfall was a nice protection. She knew that the discussion could turn...heated...This "sound barrier" had, accordingly, played a rather huge role in her decision to locate the little camp here...

"In this case, why did you participated in the battle that destroyed this cause ? "

The sound barrier was definitely going to be useful. Flora was not like her brother, a born diplomat, and she had a proficiency to lose her temper when in diffucult situations. As she did not know herself the answer to the question asked by the priestress, her voice rose...

"Come on, you know like me that there is some rotten apples in your ranks. This Gustav, for instance. He is nothing more than a criminal using revolutionnaries motives to justify his actions. During the siege of your fortress, my squad was not engaged against your regulars units, but against the various assortment scorchers, desertors that were with you...

The priestress lowered her eyes. Miluda and herself, as well as numerous somewhat idealist folks had known this very well. The fact that many people in their ranks were not, at all, interested by social justic, but rather by sheer pillage...This had played a role that was not small in the terrible downfall that had fallen on the Death Corps.

"It's easy to say this", she finally replied. "You think that the Nobles are perfect ?"

"Oh, you speak to someone converted...The downfall of the Nobles is something I wish too...but maybe in an another way...(Flora realized what she was saying, and quickly switched subjects)I know, however, that Miluda is a genuine idealist. I know also that in a war, you can hardly choose your allies, and that things are never pretty in warfare...

Flora was also speaking for herself. It was sickening of having on her side guys like Algus or Marquis Elmdor...She really hoped that things would change, that the Commander would rebel about those dumb orders...Unlikely: the ones ordering him where his own brothers.

"Still", Flora continued, "I fear that this kind of allies had made you lost a lot of support..."

"Anyone that is not admitting that the Nobles are superior to other Humans is always just "rabble". What is the difference between this and the Damaskians that consider us as chattel ? The Nobles had just opportunity to put a little truth into their propaganda (A pause. The priestress hesitated...a lot..) All that said, I'm convinced that you are right about those allies."

"Thanks. Besides...there is other stuff to attend to...Tell me...what is your name ?"

"Margaret...You are saving me because of a vow, or just to make a good action ?"

This was a possibility like another. A custom, in Ivalician warfare was to make, in tight situations, a vow. The Church pushed for making, err, productive vows, rater than ones like "I will not cut my beard". Vows like trying to save prisonners, being chivalric, were favoured...

"No. We are saving you because Human life is something priceless, despite what that fool think. Because, me and my brother, we have been taught that "I'm innocent. This was an order. I had to obey" is a pitiful defense ! And finally because a Noble don't have right of life or death...We cannot stay here much longer...Any patrol could find us...Feel able to walk ?

(The point that Flora did not mention was the fact that she felt...guilty...for the others death. They had not been able to save the lives of other prisonners. This one, they would save)

Margaret slowly nodded...She was coughing blood, weak, but able to rise. Her health state would be a lot worse if a Hotuken following orders to the letter ever found her. She knelt near the fall, pouring water on her face, to try to awoke herself...As she slowly catched her senses, she...she then _recalled _what she had done. What she had say to Algus...If the other woman had not been nearby, Margaret would have threw herself from the falls at the moment...

Flora then led Margaret, who was barely able to walk, to a nearby tree, were a chocobo was tied. The bird had lost his Hokuten rider during the battle for the control of the fort, and, confused, fled the site of the main engagement. A classical event in any battle. Recuperating the said mounts was both a bane and a bless. A bane, because it was long, hard, and sometimes dangerous...A bless, because was a good half of the ''lost'' mounts were sold as a little side benefice. In fact, this was often a kind of reward..So when Saphirre, one of the best sword-users under Ramza's orders asked to be charged with this task, the Commander quickly agreed. He have heard about her financial troubles...It have been a childplay for Saphirre to bring one of the birds she found to this remote place. The bird was in good health, and could certainly go to the coast, with Margaret. Sure, the coastal areas, in this sector of Ivalice, were rather barren, but it was a better choice than heading inland. In fact, a lone girl could easily bypass the control points established by the Hokuten. A lone girl...not an army. This was why Miluda had been forced to pull what was left of her forces toward the mountains.,...

"Margaret, just a final little suggestion for your future...Me and my brother are somewhat very well known figures in the Red Guard. Just say to any recruitment officer that we recommanded you to their services, and you are assured to have a nice job quickly..."

The mercenary trade almost always exploded with wars, but the scale of it could vary widely...The Red Guard was both _the _best and hugest mercenary unit of Ivalice. Formed in Valencia around twenty years ago by an handful of adventurers, it have evolved, served by the circumstances and the skills of it's commanders to an veritable army, perfectly trained and well-commanded, disposing of a quite efficient navy and it's own engineeers units for sieges.

They were always getting the latest gear: according to various sources, out of roughly thousand of heavy gunpowder pieces avaible in the world, at least a quarter was in the hands of the Red Guard...The deep-down anti-Noble feelings of the Red Guard (which had served the unit admirably in Valencia, as it was used by the Crown to fight some rebelling Nobles...with so impressive skill that the unit was given many of the lands confiscated, in reward for it's loyalty) would make this interesting from someone of the Death Corps...

"And why should I join the Red Guard instead of rallying what's left of the Death Corps ?"

"For two reasons…As it told you, Margaret, I'm very sympathic with your cause. Like everyone, I have a very limited affection for the Nobles...But, currently, your movement is…doomed, you know it as well as me. This is hopeless…for now. I'm sure that you will be much more useful for the Revolution alive than dead...(Margaret said nothing. Good sign !) For the second point, well, you see, I spoke with Singleton...our surgeon, the one that patched you up...Don't worry, you will live, but, I must warn you...You have a much reduced lung capacity...You are an healer, you must know what this means for you health...

"Yeah, I know what this means...Reduced lung capacity...this means less oxygen in my bloodstream, and by extension, much less capacity for physical activity...For battle..."

Flora was surprised by this first-class and quite coherent explanation, radically appart from the stuff taught in most medical schools, some silly theories about fluids, the four or five elements...The more modern schools were much more pragmatic in their teachings. Still, it was hardly surprising that a "medic" of the Death Corps was not a conservative...And if Flora knew this, it was because she had an education that was...as unconventional as complete

"And don't take gloves when speaking with me", continued Margaret . "I will never recover from that, I know it...Neither from that wound or from the kicks that Algus gave me in the womb for make me talk...(There was a hint of tears of Margaret face) Because of that monster, I'm sure that I will never be able to bear children, if I had wished too.."

"It's why", said Flora "after a moment, a quiet medical job within the Guard would be..."

"About your offer. I decline it. You see I...I cracked down under torture. I gave up the rally point...Thank you for the help. But because of me, a lot of people are going to die...Forget about me. Forget my name. I'm going to seek the first occasion to die in an honorable way...But, please, listen, if you wish to assist someone, please pick up someone that really needs it There is someone that need help more than me...I...I brought with me someone when I enlisted in the Death Corps...She is...she is just a kid. They will kill her anyway. If you ever saw her, promise me that you will try to help her...She is with Miluda, rigth now..."

"It's...your choise", said sadly Flora. "If I find her, be sure that I will do what you asked..."

Margaret' mount slowly walked away, and Flora returned to the fortress...She had done her best. Then Flora realized that she did not even asked the girl's name...Bad start.

Margaret, despite her pain in the chest, and all the blood she was coughing was smiling. She would die soon, as soon as possible (she would find the first friendly unit, and try to take out as many Nobles with her as possible...) but she have the soothing feeling to be pretty sure that this Flora and her brother would do everything to save the girl that Miluda had took with her, if something was going to happen to her...Something _was _going to happen to Miluda.

The Nobles were going to hunt the Death Corps, especially it's leaders. And Margaret was pretty sure that the Beowulve were going to sent again their latest offspring against them, despite his obvious reluctances. Not despite. _Because _of it's reluctances. They were hoping that the taste of blood will kill his humanist feelings. If not, well, it was better for them to be aware sooner than later of the lack of "reliability" of Ramza Beowulve.. Finally, Miluda herself was highly likely to prefer death than live with a temporary defeat of the Revolution.

Like Miluda, Margaret cared a lot about the girl she mentioned to Flora, for the girl herself...She was so kind, well-intentionned, intelligent...determined, too. And moreover, Lysithea had died in a most horrible wayb for protect her and Margaret. This made a link.

Butt what no one knew except her and Miluda (the girl herself was in ignorance...And Miluda had not even warned her own brother of the situation, to limit the risks) was that this fourteen years old girl could be a day the object of countless curses from the Nobles.

_As she was fully able to bring a day victory for the cause of the Revolution_.

The Harbinger...

Margaret heart sank at the thought. This girl was not an living heresy, or a sort of weapon for the Revolution. It was...it was basically her beloved little sister. This...this was not right, of thinking of her this way. If Margaret died, what would prevent to try, to manipulate her ?

To be honest...what was possibility that Margaret would not be tempted by such possibility ?

Margaret clutched the "good charm" that her little sister had made her. A ribbon-the long, silky hair of Margaret was a shark contrast to her sister short and rather shaggy one, and her little sister had tought that a ribbon would be a neat gift. The thing was awfully cheap, as it have been bought from a traveller merchant that peddled such goods. Still, Margaret valued the thing, as this was almost the only thing that recalled her earlier life...It was the only thing still connecting her to her last family membe...How she would perceive the...fact that her "big sister" had betrayed the Death Corps ? Was about...to doom them ? If by miracle, Miluda and the others survived, she would be branded as...a traitor. And she _was _a traitor...

Tears in her eyes, Margaret picked up the ribbon...and tore it to shreds. It was symbolic, of course...she would never see again her litte sister. Or Miluda. She was death for them...

For her part, more than a bit dispirited, Flora came back to the camp near the fortress. At least, Margaret had not commited suicide on the spot, but this was not much better.

Hmm, what was happening ? The Commander was giving out orders, fellow soldiers were grabbing equipment...Pretty much obvious : they were leaving the place ...She founds Renard quickly : he was with Saphirre and Singleton, picking up his stuff and his gear...

"Ah, Flora, you came back just in time ! (Much lower) Did she get away ?"

"(In the same low voice...) Yes, she should be out of reach from Algus in a few hours...But...I'm sure she will go back to the Death Corps. We did what we could. She told me something important, however...Will tell it to you later (Higher) What happened exactly ? We are leaving the camp ? Are we _finally _out of those f... missions about hunting the Death Corps (Renard was surprised by the word used by Flora, but, like everyone, she was really exesperated about thoses missions. Heck, the twins have not enlisted themselves in the Lessarian armies for killing badly armed rebels. They had a much more personnal task)

"Well, from what I heard, a commando attacked Igros, for an assasination mission that failed...On Dycedarg. For assuring their wihdrawal, they took an hostage. But they make a mistake...They took Delita's sister in hostage instead of the Commander sister. I kinda have the depressing feeling that all this is going to end in bloodbath, as the Nobles of Igros will think this is an attack on their honour. And you know they react in those cases.

"For sure", replied Saphirre. "The Council of Houses would have negotiated with the Corps for a Beowulve...and killed them afterward, for sure, but only after secured the hostage.For an "peasant" girl ..They are not going to stop a single second for her, despite what they will say for calm down the Commander on that matter...(She looked at Delita, who was climbing on his own bird...He looked to be pretty down, and he had a rather good reason) You know what I think ? I'm sure that he know it deep down, but that he prefers to clings to the idea that the Beowulve will not dare to harm a girl that was raised as their sister..."

Saphirre realized, at this point, that she had been much more vocal than usual-it was because the subject touched her deep down. As this could lead the othersto ask questions-and Saphirre realized that the Flora, Renard and Singleton were eyeing at her rather curiously. She promptly shutup, and looked away. The others, after a while, resumed their talk...

"And...this is torning him appart, yes, said Flora...If something happens to Teta, I really don't wish to be the one that would be a the tip of his sword when he will learn it..."

**Away for the fortresse, some hours later...**

Miluda and her lone companion, a girl still in her early teens, had walked from the fort with some survivors, then splitted up to reach the rally point with eventual survivors from others units, then to proceed to one other of their strongholds. Morale was quite low, as many were realizing that their cause was more and more hopeless. Miluda was torn appart by the fact that she had to abandonn in the hands of the ennemy her second-in-command, Margaret.

The poor girl was lucky if she was dead by now...It's was going to be Miluda's own fate soon. The leader of the Revolution knew that if Ramza Beowulve was a decent ennemy, he was really an exception. She would never have another chance to escape death...

Miluda simply hoped to leave this life in a way that would help the cause in a way...

And, if possible, by trying to do something for the safety of Margaret and Lysithea "sister"...She had almost not training in survival, and she was shivering because of the cold, despite the small camp fire that Miluda had set up for warm her a bit for the night. Miluda could have somewhat managed without it...On a very rational, cold, point of view, the girl was slowing her. Still, Miluda never thought about "dropping" her to her death...

She would never have done that, even without the rumor they once heard about her. Miluda did not knew if what her Murian contact, Ithilia, had said, two years ago was true. (

Ithilia was certainly sincere, but she had only heard a rumor. But it have given so much hope to her and Margaret, in a fight that was doomed from the start, despite the limited aid of the Red Guard and the Murianeses...With her very good mood, enthousiasm, it was not exagerated to say that the young girl was a real moral raiser for everyone...

She had not participated to the battle of the fortresse proper, as she had almost never used a weapon. In fact, Miluda was using her as a clerk for the paperwork...for a quadruple reason.

She was still too young, she was suprisingly intelligent, and Miluda did not wanted to expose to a lucky arrow a potential Harbringer of Revolution...The last reason was the most silly...she looked so innocent...that Miluda preferred to keep her this way as long as possible. Her eyes were already from birth bloodred.It was better that her hands did not turn that color too soon, because of human blood. From the first time Miluda had seen the girl, during the Siege of Riovannes, she had been attached to her. Her relation to Margaret and Lysithea only made sure that Miluda done the upmost for preserve the live of the girl...Still, she had done her modest part, and Miluda's had noted that she had everything to make a decent fighter...

Right now, Corail was trying to treat the injury that Miluda had at the head, another side effect of the battle. It was not really serious in itself, except that the bloodloss was seriously weaking her. Milua appreciated the effort : without Corail, she would likely have bled white...

"Thank you again. I think it's going to hold a good time...Sleep a little : you will need rest for the rest of thejourney...I will wake you when it's going to be your turn to guard..."

Corail, exhausted, nodded and found a somewhat dry spot (a rare thing in this forest) next to the fire, and almost immediatly fell into a depth sleep...A troubled one, too. Margaret was not her "real"sister, but they were very close. Aand her capture (meaning, certain death. That guy, Ramza, was certainly sincere. It's why he did not capture her remaining troops...Because he knew that he would be unable to prevent the torture...It was even quite probable that Algus done the following "interrogations" sceances behind his back...or rather, behind what Ramza could pretend to be his back...) was probably harder for her than for Miluda...

They have been so helpless to help her : she was organizing a counterattack for lighten the pression of the ennemy on a crippled wall, when her group had been encircled, and her quickly took prisonner, by no one else that this bastard of Algus, who had slapped her several times, to show that she was completly powerless, until Margaret, who never let out a scream, was knocked out. He probably thought that, by taking down one soldier with ten on his side, he was doing something really Noble. The ideology of the Nobles was really...sickening, to say the least. And Algus was really one of the worse of his kind...

Miluda looked at the asleep form of Corail, and sighed. She unclipped her cloak and used it as as sheet for her. At least one of them would have a minimal rest this night...

Some minutes later, Corail suddenly opened her eyes wide, and lifted herself...

"Miluda. Someone is coming. My head was on the ground : I heard their steps..."

The other Human did not even consider the possibility that this was others survivors (they had receive orders to disperse...) Someone have tracked them...She had been very careful in their escape, and the track they had left would have been very hard to follow...

If someone could find them, this means that the Ennemy knew, at least roughly, in what direction to look...Which means that the rally point was maybe compromised...their last tiny hope would certainly now be a deathtrap. Miluda knew the configuration of the land. The mountain range a couple of day-worth of walk ahead was a formidable obstacle, and the handful of points of passage could be blocked with very few soldiers...The rally point was at the feet of the chain, and the evident goal of the urvivors was to cross after the said chain.

It's would be a piece of cake for the ennemy, now warned, to take the appropriated measures well before the first ''thief'' arrived at the position. The only option left would be to search for an uncharted passage, without guides (too risky) or maps, with numerous ennemies hard on their tracks..They could be make a final stand. They could not win.

They would see about that later. Miluda prepared herself for the battle. She did not extinguish the fire : the ennemy had already seen it, and she had to see her opponents to have a chance to defeat them. She was not prepared for what emerged for the trees, however. The black armoured form of an Executor, who issued a sound between a hiss and a laugh, before raising a huge two handed-sword still tainted with blood...Not exactly an good start...

"Go behind me", said quietly Miluda to Corail. "If we stay calm, we can survive..."

"Things are turning pretty bad", answered the other. She was making reference to the two others Executors emerging from the woods, that looked as engaging as the first one...

Taking down one in regular combat will be hard...but _three _? Especially considering that they were not alone. After they have make a loose circle around Miluda and Corail, others opponents appeared, this time without apparent weapons...With the typical scorn (called by them dignity) of a Noble, a man came next to their fire. Miluda recognized him at once.

Marquis Elmdor, one of the most despicable representatives of the Houses, who had ordered several time without flinching repressive measures that ended in the summary executions of thousands of peasants and workers...Elmdor was followed with a servility that was almost funny to watch by an another Noble, whose mere sight was angering both Corail and Miluda. "Lord" Algus, who was tremendously glad to have been "honoured" by Elmdor...

"Well, well, well", said Elmdor, snickering. "The great Miluda, alone. Or almost alone. Where are the armies that were supposed to crush us ? Anyway, I think it's really going to be fun to watch how you will deal with those nice fellows..." (Miluda did not answer...)

"I bet with Duke Oaks", Elmdor, Continued, "when this man (he pointed derisively Algus) warned me that he have localized you, that you would hold out a least an half-hour. You maybe managed to convince Beowulve, by seduction or sorcery, I don't care (did Elmdor actually believed that ? Not sure, at all. But for him, the mere concept of sparing "revolted peasants" was as alien as it could be, so this explanation was better than nothing) to spare your life, but you will not suceed with me. Never. Your death is going to be rather paingul...

"Miluda, don't you find strange", replied Corail, that for killing "cowardly rabbe" like us, they have to outnumber us at least seven to one ? (The Executors, the Marquis and Algus, nine guards equipped with crossbows and bows, a mage, and two woman staying in the shadows) But it's sure that with Algus on their side, our chances to beat them are higher !"

"Another little rebel snake that don't know to pay respect to her master ! (Algus anger was heightened by the fact that the two woman on his side were smiling, quite amused...Corail and Miluda had the impression that one nodded at them) I will cut your tongue myself before-"

Elmdor stopped Algus upcoming tirade...He was looking with great interest Corail.

Like Miluda, a rather lovely girl. If Miluda could be taken alive, there was going to be interesting possibilities. Of course, someone as dangerous as Miluda was maybe not the safest...partner...available, but Eldmor had dealt with...much more dangerous females. On the other hand, this girl was going to be probably...more enjoyable, on the long run.

What a pity that she had those bloodred eyes...Better not take chances. Lloth would certainly be interested in...seeing...her and would certainly reward Elmdor. Sure he could have his way with her, _then _present Corail to Lloth, but this could turn risky, as Lloth had stated that she prefered to have the girl not too much "damaged". Asking why was _even more _risky...

If this was not what he thought, well, Lloth also quite enjoyed torture for the sake of it...

"The red-eyed girl" he said finally, at the intention of the three Executors. "You can toy (traduction: torture) with her if you wish, but don't kill her or injure her permanently ! It's a formal _order _! (To the intention of Corail) I know a lady that we be very interested in seeing you. But you don't wan't to know what she will do to you if you actually raise her interest..."

"It's very courageous, really, Marquis, to attack her..". snarled back Miluda...

"You are to kind, Marquis, said Algus, to offer them to die by the sword..Death by this weapon or by the axe are for the Nobles ! They just desserve to die as animals, tortured !

"Act more subservient, Algus", shouted Miluda. "Maybe you could actually lick his boots ! You can kill us of all, you bastard, but the Revolution will not die with us ! "

"True", said with a perfect calm Marquis Elmdor..."But you will _never _succeed. Never. Everything is with the Nobles...Power, money...God, even. When one of you rise in defiance, two others kneel to save their worthless lives. You are courageous, Miluda, I must admit. What a pity that your soul is way too strong for our little goals. Your brother will be perfect, however...(He made a gesture). Executors...she is your prey, now !"

"My...my brother ?", said, completly surprised, Miluda (ignoring the fact the executors were slowly walking toward her...) "What...what do you want with my brother ? What..."

"The plans of the great Houses are not of a concern for animals like you", said Algus...

"Whatever are those plans", said sarcastically Corail, "he certainly not shared them with an idiot such as you...Simply walking must seriously strain your mental capacities..."

"You have a point, little girl", said the youngest of the women in ennemy ranks, actually laughing, both because of the phrase and the expression of Algus when he heard it...

Corail had angered Algus enough to make him loose all common sense. To the point that he actually came foward, to kill Corail with his own hands. Exposing himself to Miluda.

Despite all his talks about the Nobles, and how they could defeat easily "peasants", Algus hesitated to engage Miluda, who was far superior in him in training and experience, related to her years of fighting during the Civil War: Miluda had began to fighting when she was barely fifteen years old, and had almost never stopped.bHe tried one more time to demoralize her with one sentence that was supposed to devastate her (in his mindset, at least)

"Nice to you, to have light this fire: it will save the trouble of making one for your corpses!"

Short of crucifixion, the execution mode that Demon-touched children-the Tieflines-desserved, vexecution by the fire was the worst punishment in Ivalice. So, ennemies killed in battle were sometimes burned after their deaths, for two reason : first, it's allowed the victor to pretend that he had burned them alive, and second point, it's destroyed the corpses, which was preventing funerals. As well as preventing eventual usurpers later on...)

"Yeah. I really should extinguish" it, said in a strange voice Miluda, while she bent toward the ground to pick one torch, while still pointing her sword in direction of Algus...

Corail guessed what Miluda was about to do, and threw dirt with her feet on the two others torches still on the ground, extinguishing them quickly...while Miluda was doing the same, _by thrusting her own torch in the face of Algus. _The screams of pain and curses provided a very decent distraction for their escape from the circle of three Executors.

They "just" had to dodge a couple of blow before disapearing into heavy woods, the Executors pursuiving them. Years of inhuman training had made the Executors quite strong physically : they did not have the slighest trouble in keeping pace with Miluda and Corail, despite the far heavier armor. Executors should however have been penalized with their eyesight and hearing, since it was dark night and they were wearing heavy helmets.

A normal Human would have been completly disoriented. But the training of the Executors made them more predators than Human. The only advantage was that Humans (or even wolves, for that matter) would have trired to cooperate. But not the Executors...

"This was for Margaret, and all the others", said in a low voice Miluda as they were putting as much distance as possible between them and their former campsite (Corail knew that Miluda was probably crying when she said that...This would never brought the others back...)

"Miluda", said Corail after they stopped to orient themselves. "Why the guards and the mage have not fired on us ? They could have killed us without trouble...Why sending Executors ?"

Miluda knew the answer. Because Elmdor was _sure _that she was doomed.

So doomed that he could afford to give her a death pleasing his sadist tastes : an hunt by Executors. For Nobles, the lives of other Humans had really not worth...For Corail...his comment was puzzling, but he was probably more or less planning to "amuse" himself...

Oor to give her to...what did he said ? Only "Lady". The worst thing was that Miluda knew that Elmdor was not a fool like Algus : if he had not killed her on the spot, it's was certainly because he was _sure _that, even if she escaped this night, she was going to be dead in a few days anyway. Miluda had the very dispiriting impression that Elmdor was right.

She motionned Corail to stay silent, then tried to devise a plan to kill the Executors...

The current attitude of Marquis Elmdor was certainly in the sense of this hypothesis. Not caring about the injuries of Algus, he was not really worried about the escape of Miluda...

"I should really have bet higher. They are certainly going to last more than an half-hour. Maybe I should have sent Lede or you against them...That would have been interesting..."

Celia did not even bothered to answer directly. This was a provocation from Elmdor part. He knew very well that she was going to be quite reluctant to attack Miluda and the other.

"What I want to do and what I actually do are completly different things", master, alas, said finally Celia, before returning to her silence, and her contemplation, with a barely dissimulateed amusement, of Algus screaming ridiculous insults at the intention of Miluda.

There was a loud sound coming from the forest, covering Algus lamentations, like a heavy rock connecting with force with armor, and Elmdor sighed. Potential Executors were somewhat easy to find, sure, but the armor was costing really a lot, and if it was seriously damaged, the cost of reparations would probably be for him. Annoying.

Miluda had managed to separate the three Executors, but after she ambushed one of them in deep vegetation (the armor was so tough that it was better to procede with blunt weapons rather than with blades...The only thing that have allowed her to survive long enough to almost knock him down was the fact that this Executor was wielding a hallberd, a great weapon to use in the open...and a quite bad one in places where it was quite likely that any blow would connect with branches, tree trunks, and similar things) the two others quickly converged toward the point the noise had came...One was much closer than the other, and arrived quickly. The Executor that had been attacked was not dead, yet...

He had been badly hit at the head, leaving him somewhat confused, dazed...

At least, it was what it seemed too. The other Exexutor noted that there was also with quite a number of dents in it's armor. The kind of dents that an hasty removal of the armour could have done.Smirking beneath his helmet, he proceeded to attack his "colleague".

Really a cheap ruse, to hide into the armour of a fallen ennemy. It was probably the older female. Killing (he was forgetting his orders) the younger one after that would really be really a piece of cake. He then proceeded to attack with his two handed-warhammer.

The reasoning faculties of the Executor were never very high, and the ones he had were quite dullen by years of use of "combat-enhancing"' substances that were given to him to quicken up his reflexes, his agressivity...Thus, he only grunted when he realized that his opponent was really another Executor, after he killed it with an unspeakable savagery...

Before he had time to think to what to do now , Miluda had emerged from her hiding just behind him, and skillfully buried her sword into one of the traditionnal weak point of heavy armour, the connection between the arm and the rest of the armour.

It was hard to judge what was the result of this attack, but if it had not actually severed the arm, it was certainly quite close...Anyway, the Executor dropped his hammer, allowing Miluda to make another strike at his legs, to paralyze him. The rest...was horrible.

Battle against soldiers in complete armor were not fancy things, as the only damaging strikes were strikes against weak points, which make often the process quite close to butchery...

Corail was quite pale when the Executor finally stopped to move, and Miluda rose.

"Two down with one hit", said Miluda when she was sure the other was death. "Great suggestion Corail, those little dents..." (Miluda had planned to kill the almost stunned Executor in the same way, then use the corpse as a lure. Corail's plan was far better...)

"Miluda..did we...really had to kill him, in such a way...It...it was really awful..."

"This guy accepted to save his life in exchange of being the tool, the...dog...of all the Nobles ! To do their dirtiest work ! Did you know what kind of guys are so low to accept this ? Serial killers ! Child molesters ! I'm...I'm not angered at you because you have pity, compassion, even for him...Those are great sentiments. Truly...noble...sentiments...Any Human should have them...But you know as well as me that he would never have hesitated top kill me...He would have tortured you for his ''fun'' before giving you to Elmdor and this 'lady'' he mentionned, for whatever horrible perversion they have designed for you !"

"Yeah...I know all of this, Miluda...I'm not a fool...I know very well that...he was really beyond talking...That we had to kill him, in a way...And that, like you said, he had certainly done abominable things...But still, the way you cutted him in pieces into-"

"Nobles think that reluctance to shed blood is a weakness. However, it's always the blood of OTHERS that they are quite willing to shed. I'm sure this is not-CORAIL !"

Corail had the time to move away slightly before the last Executor striked at her with his sword. As a result, the knocking did not hit her head, but rather her body.

Still, it had enough strenght to make her violently hit a nearby tree, stunned her almost instantly. No longer looking at her, thinking her out of combat for a good moment, the Executor concentrated on engaging Miluda...This one was armed with two weapons : an heavy flail in one hand, a sword in the other, and he was knowing how to use them.

Blocking heavy flail hits with a sword was really hard, and almost impossible if another weapon was involved...Miluda was quite fast reduced to only defend herself.

And then, Miluda realized with horror that the Executor have managed to twist the head and the chain of his flail against her blade, and was pulling her toward him to finish her...

Either she dropped her sword (death sentence), or either she was dragged next to the Executor, without being able to block the attacks of his long blade...Miluda, desperate, took her dagger in the left hand : if there was an opening in the Executor guard, she could disgage herself. When she noticed that Corail was coming back to her sense, she see her chance, and tried to hold a couple of minute more...She was right. Seeing the desperate situation of Miluda, Corail hit the Executor as hard as she could in the back with her own dagger.

The result was meager, at best, as the poor quality weapon could never break throught such an armor : it's only make a tiny dent. However, the Executor have been distracted, for a split second, and Miluda exploited this. She counter attacked with her dagger, striking the gauntlet holding the flail...A split second later, the flail was clicking on the ground a dozen meters away from Miluda, who had just yanked it from the hands of the Executor...

Things after that were bloody and violent. As the Executor collapsed, Miluda and Corail did not took a long rest. Arrows and bolts began quickly to "song" around them-Elmdor had ordered his "normal troops" against them, keeping the two Succubus for his own protection.

But, in wood cover and in night, accuracy was impossible if not from very close. The chances that the archers would get them were quite low, and everyone knew it perfectly...But this was just intentend to be a distraction. The actual attack was supposed to come from elsewhere

"Rebel snakes, this is the end of the road for you..." said quietly the Mage as the two female, more or less corraled by the ranged attacks, arrived in front of the small cliff where he was...

He was ready to use on them one of the most powerful version of elemental spells, the ones from the Water Plane. Long casting time. But he had time to prepare. This version of the spell was said to be powerful enough to knock a dragon (well, it was an expression,

The older female, recognized the incantation, knew that she was doomed. She did something desperate-instinctively, she moved to shield with her body the younger girl...

Even better for the mage...His spell would kill her with direct damage, and the younger one, that had to be took alive, would be "only" badly injured by the area of effect damage...

All this in one blow. Quite cost effective He finished the incantation.

...and Corail looked at him, very puzzled. _Nothing had happened at all. _

Miluda was quite surprised, as this was a sort of...confirmation. But her reaction was nothing compared to the one of the mage. This allowed Miluda, towing a somewhat confused Corail, to turn the cliff, reach the mage, and engage him shortly in close range combat-this was quick.

Farther away Marquis Elmdor was not really enraged when he heard the report some time after. After all, he had won indiscutably his bet with Duke Oaks...And Miluda was doomed.

Algus was still holding it's face (altought the burns were painful, they were superficial...In a few days, there would be no longer traces), cursing Miluda and Corail in amusing ways.

The already low opinion that Elmdor had of his new follower took a sharp drop. What an idiot. Not even a pawn. Celia decided to exploit the situation. She came next to Algus.

"You maybe want a consolation kiss?", said in a very seductive voice Celia.

There was another proof that, really, really, Algus had not a really a sharp mind. He did not thought that it was quite strange that Celia, who never hidden the total contempt she had for both him and Elmdor, suddenly become much less aggressive with him...

Elmdor stopped Celia as she was about to actually kiss Algus. This guy was a fool, but he still had his usefulness. Elmdor, like several of his..friends (fellow plotters would be more accurate)...had a quite scheming mind, and was always calculating. Having a little "pawn", even a very dumb one, ready to sacrifice is always a good thing...Algus would be the perfect guy for doing a dirty job and then being thrown away. But not this night...

"Hmm. A next time, maybe, Algus", said with a voice really cold as ice, Celia, before following the Marquis to a point out of hearing range for anyone in their little group...

"Master", she then said, "I must admit that I will really, really enjoy killing this Algus, when is usefulness for you will be exhausted. I hope this will be soon, as I'm out of patience."

"Your opinion have not the slighest importance for me. I forbidde you and Lede to do anything about him. Anyway, he does not need your help to be death as soon as possible.".

"Of course, Master, I will obey. But don't fool yourself, Master...We are maybe your slaves now, but...(Celia only said that word...But...And this was sufficient to make Elmdor shiver) You have toyed with something very, very dangerous, Master, when you called us to protect you...My loyalty will last only a time...Until I will find a way to kill you..."

"Don't speak to me like that", said Elmdor, not much worried. Those were just words.

"What ? You will kill me and Lede ? Did you forgot a little detail about us ? No. You can force us to obey, to kill your ennemies...but not to think as you wish...Goodnight."

Lede, who was lookingmuch younger than Celia (she had the appearance of a fourteen-fifteen years old female Human, while Celia looked to be more around twenty. The real differences between their ages was nothing less than stagerring...) looked at Celia curiously as she was coming back to the place they had been standing before this interruption...The two females, which were given a wide berth from anyone, even from the Marquis, could talk as freely as they wished, as no one wanted to hear things that could result in infortunate "accidents"

"Another fascinating night", said Lede..."I wonder why the Marquis alway bring us..."

"Very easy to answer...Like all the others who use us...To impress it's opponents. Also, maybe he wanted to have some back up in case of the Executors turned against him..."

"Maybe, said evasively Lede. But _we _learned something interesting tonight, however..."

Some time later, much deeper in the forest, Miluda and Corail, now sure of being out of range of any pursuers, stopped a bit for catching their breath, and rest a little...

"I think we are out of trouble...for now. But it will be hard to reach the rally point..."

"Yeah", said quietly Corail..."They will have prepared traps for us in the mountains... But Miluda...what do you think they want with your brother...It's really worrying me."

"Oh, it was probably one of those pathetic tentatives to destabilize me", said Miluda, trying to sound not concerned (it was not the case. What the heck Elmdor was meaning ? She chased the thought) Corail, the next days are going to be tough...very tough. We may get separated (Euphemism for _I may have to sacrifice myself to cover the escape of the others_) If this happens...don't try to reach another of our bases or safe points. You understand ?"

"Why ? I'm sure that I would be an use to Gustav or Wiegraf...To...avenge you..."

It took at good timeto Miluda to answer to that. First hand, she was quite pleased that Corail seemed minimally attached to her too...Some feelings are hard to live with if they are not shared. However, she was not willing, at all, to let Corail go with Gustav or Wiegraf. The reason for Gustav was pretty much evident, altought he was quite correct with his own soldiers (and even somewhat cautious with their lives): Miluda had an extensive experience of working with him, and knew about his rather sinister tendancies concerning young females.

Thusr, despite his qualities as a war-leader, Miluda would never allowed him to stay in the ranks of the Death Brigades without the support that her brother was granting to him...

Her brother...Despite what she had said to Corail, she was really worried about him.She was more...cold-headed...than Wiegraf. Without her, Wiegraf would make disastrous decisions (not considering that her death was quite likely to affect his judgement...)

"No, Corail...Either you see them _with me_, or never. (Miluda tried to find a reason other than the real one : that she never talked to her brother about Corail...and the fear that he would try to use Corail, which was likely to result in disaster for her and him...) Because...how do you think he will react when someone will come and say to him "Hello, Mister, I was one of the clerk of your sister...She never talked to you about me ? What a strange coincidence". He will think that you are an assassin and kill you. Pretty stupid way to die, hmm ? We were very few knowing you in the Brigades...so few that...you gave a golden chance to start a new life."

Miluda did not mentionned that Elmdor and Algus had seen her...However, there was a good chance that they did not exactly cared about Corail on the long run. They would care less about her, anyway. The well meaning suggestion looked to hurt Corail...a lot...

"So...you are casting me out of the Death Brigade, it's what you mean ? You are asking me to return to my ''normal life'' ? I don't think it's really possible...and you too..."

"I'm not casting you out, Corail...I'm saying that it's not necessary that YOU die too...But...we will talk about those things a little latter...In a less hostile place..."

Corail sighed, and they resumed their walk in the woods. They would probably out of the woods tomorrow morning...As soon as the others would have reached the rally point, they would head for the mountain range, with little hope of finding undefended ways...

There was probably no longer any safe place for them in this wretched world...

_Fortunately, she is too troubled to think about what happened with the Mage...Or rather, what _DID NOT _happened. She is really the Harbringer: Magic can't coexist with her..._


End file.
